The Rules of War, Magic and Love
by Morphea
Summary: Merlin joins a group of young, peaceful sorcerers, but uncovers a conspiracy to kill the King. Meanwhile, Arthur agrees to an arranged marriage to gain a crucial alliance for Camelot. Find out the dramatic consequences of their choices inside... A/G
1. Chapter 1: The Gathering

**Title**: The Rules of War, Magic and Love  
**Summary**:  
Merlin joins a group of young, peaceful sorcerers, but uncovers a conspiracy to kill the King. Meanwhile, Arthur agrees to an arranged marriage to gain a crucial alliance for Camelot. Find out the dramatic consequences of their choices inside... A/G

**Genre**: Drama/Romance  
**Protagonists**: Merlin & Arthur  
**Pairings**: Arthur/Gwen

**Updates:** Twice a week, on Sundays and Wednesdays, in the morning (western Europe time)

**Author's Note:**  
This is a sequel to the story "Beliefs and Ideals", but it can be read independently, so please don't run away if you haven't read it!  
There will be a few references to past events, and some minor OC from the other story may make a quick cameo appearance, but I'll always make sure everything can be understood by a new reader.  
But if something remains unclear, feel free to ask, I'll be glad to clarify!

**CONTEXT & WHAT YOU NEED TO KNOW BEFORE READING THIS STORY** (if you're a new reader or if you need a quick recap):  
- This is set some time during series 2  
- Morgana is aware Merlin knows she's a witch. She has practised quite powerful magic. Due to plot-driven events, she forgot all about this experience (including finding out about Merlin's powers), all but the exhilaration that using magic brings.  
- Arthur worked out that Merlin is a warlock, and covertly let him know he had. How that knowledge will affect their relationship remains to be told  
- While nothing has been said clearly and openly, Gwen and Arthur are aware that their feelings are mutual. Gwen even told Arthur she was willing to wait for him.

I discovered recently that what sounds like complete gibberish to my foreign ear in the series every time someone does magic, is in fact Old English. I'll take that into account this time when inventing spells! (it will make it way easier!)

* * *

**Chapter 1: The Gathering**

Merlin got back into his room and slammed the door behind him, completely exhausted by the tasks he'd been assigned for the day. Tidying Gaius' laboratory, going out to collect plants for him, running a few errands for Arthur, polishing his armour _again_, and, last but not least, cleaning the stables. Seriously, what did they feed those horses?

Well at least Arthur's behaviour towards him hadn't changed since the day he had subtly indicated he knew Merlin was a warlock. He still gave him the same daily chores, no more, no less. He still teased and mocked him every time he got the chance. It was as if nothing had happened. The only thing that may have changed a little was that Arthur let him accompany him on his travels more readily. He didn't question his motivation any more.

As for the topic of magic itself, several months after finding out about his gift, they still hadn't discussed about it, not even covertly. Well, not really. Every once in a while, Arthur would notice a strange isolate event and mention it to Merlin, on an informative tone but obviously waiting for a confession that it had been caused by his magic, which it usually had. And invariably, Merlin would just nod and shrug, avoiding to answer the silent question.

He didn't know why he did that. Why it was still so hard to admit it openly while it was not a secret any more.

He headed for his bed, fully planning to collapse in it, when something caught his attention. The small vial on his night table. He stepped closer in order to check: yes, the colour had definitely changed!

He had prepared the mixture it contained that very morning, like he had so many times over the last few weeks. The composition had been revealed to him several months back by a witch he had helped escape from the dungeons. When associated with the appropriate spell, it was supposed to let him know when secret sorcerers gatherings were going to be held.

Some time since morning, the vial's contents had turned from dark green to as translucent as water. This was the signal. There was a gathering planned that night.

This news filled Merlin with renewed energy. This was so exciting! His first gathering! He had been waiting for this for months! He was so eager to see how it would be, to meet other warlocks and witches his own age, to learn new spells...

When dinner came, he gulped his meal in no time at all, under Gaius' perplexed gaze.

"Take your time, you're going to make yourself sick... Why are you in such a hurry?"

"Well, tonight I'm going to -" Merlin couldn't bring himself to tell him. Even if Gaius was the one who had encouraged him to see other young sorcerers, it was just too weird to admit he planned on sneaking out of the castle at night. " - sleep. Early. I'm exhausted," he concluded lamely.

Gaius kept staring at him when he hurried back into his room. "Merlin," he called.

Merlin turned round on the doorstep. "Yes?"

His tutor sighed. "I'll be pretending to be sound asleep within an hour. Try not to make too much noise when you return..."

Surprised at first, Merlin finally smiled. "I will, thanks Gaius."

Half an hour later, he had prepared everything he needed for his little excursion. On the other side of the wall, Gaius' irregular snores were almost convincing – but maybe he really _was_ asleep. There was just one last point to settle: he still had no idea where the gathering was supposed to take place.

He picked up the vial from his night table, brought it to his nose before deciding wisely to keep it at arm-length. Well, he hoped it didn't taste as bas as it smelled, he thought, unable to get rid of that acrid stink... Taking a deep breath, he drank it all in one gulp and got his answer.

It didn't taste as bad as it smelled. It tasted worse. Somehow it reminded him of waste-water. With an after-taste of rancid milk.

After a few seconds, once the initial revulsion was gone, Merlin was stunned by the sudden feeling that he... knew. He knew where the gathering was. He would be incapable of showing it on a map, or to describe where it was located. But he knew in which direction he should head in order to get there.

He took his belongings and left the laboratory and the castle as quietly and discreetly as possible. His instincts immediately oriented him towards the forest.

It was an extremely strange and rather unsettling sensation. It was like having a map in his head he could use but not see. He could literally get there with his eyes shut...

After nearly an hour walking deeper and deeper into the forest, he _knew _he was getting close. A hundred feet ahead, he could make out a torch-lit clearing.

There he was at last. Merlin put his hood up and walked forward. Without the trees to protect him from the wind, the coolness of the night made him shiver.

The area was filled with dozens of other hooded people and buzzing with activity. From what he could tell, they all seemed as young as he was, and discussed rather lively, split up into small groups of mostly five or six persons.

Merlin blended into the crowd and, slowly, joined one of the groups, trying not to disturb the ongoing conversation. He was astonished to hear them talk about something that had happened at the castle a while ago. He smiled when he realised the recounting was slightly exaggerated, but also a little off.

"The whole city's water supplies were contaminated. You couldn't drink a single drop without falling sick."

"I heard about that too. They even accused a villager of witchcraft. For once they must have been right because as soon as they executed her, the curse was lifted."

"It was a curse, but the villager they accused was not responsible for it, she wasn't executed. An Afanc had hatched in the river below the city."

Merlin managed to surprise himself by spontaneously correcting the speaker. He had come as a simple observer and hadn't planned to participate at all.

Five heads immediately turned to him.

"You're new, I don't recognise your face..." one of them noticed, a taller young man.

"Yes, it's my first time here, I was invited by -"

"Wow, let me stop you right there..." a petite woman cut in. "Basic rule: no names and nothing too specific. It would be way too dangerous."

"That way, if someone gets caught, he can't betray anyone."

"All we need to know is that you managed to come here. You're one of us, it's all that matters."

"All right. I'll try to be careful," Merlin promised.

"So, are you sure about the Afanc?"

"I saw it, it was definitely an Afanc."

"Really? You were there?"

"Yes, I was."

In the silence that followed, Merlin was amazed to see them looking rather impressed. Or maybe they just didn't believe him? But at least he had their undivided attention. And he had to admit he found it quite gratifying. Usually, the only one he could talk about that was Gaius, and he rarely looked remotely impressed.

"My uncle said he saw an Afanc egg once, you're so lucky to have seen a hatched one!"

"I'm not sure I should consider myself lucky for seeing one..."

"How big was it?" someone asked.

Merlin shrugged. "Pretty big."

"Bigger than a Silurian?" another questioned.

"I... don't know what a Silurian is..." Merlin apologised.

"It's, you know, one of those large, crawling, slimy lizard sort of creatures, that they have up north in the marsh?"

"Not too dangerous but pretty annoying, if you ask me. The other day, one of them bit my leg and just wouldn't let go! I nearly had to drag it all the way back home with me before it finally gave up!" the taller man testified.

"Next time you have to go through the marsh, try to bring a branch of silver sage," the petite woman suggested. "It's an excellent repellent, they hate it."

"Silver sage, really? I'd never have thought about it... I'll try to remember that!"

Merlin smiled while the conversation went on. Silurians, northern marsh, silver sage, he memorised as well.

This was so great! Even better than he had imagined! There he was, amongst others like him, not being judged, telling stories without having to bend the truth... He felt like he belonged. A feeling he hadn't had in a very long time.

He gave a quick look around to the other groups. There were so many, there was so much to learn... Where to go next?

"_Hyran Ealle_," he muttered under his breath.

A second later, he was capable of hearing all the surrounding conversations at the same time as if all the speakers were standing right next to him.

" - been experimenting with other ingredients - "

" - more sympathizers near the borders, where the search for magic users is getting lax - "

" - called when their youngest son got sick - "

" - commotion, it should be easy to kill the King."

Merlin turned around abruptly towards dozens of hooded figures.

Who had said that?

* * *

Come back on Wednesday for Chapter 2: "_In the War Room_"


	2. Chapter 2: In the War Room

**Chapter 2: In the War Room**

"Our scouts were categorical: King Colgrin's soldiers are a few miles away from our eastern border."

In the Great Hall, turned into a war room for the occasion, a large map of the Kingdom and its surroundings was spread across the central table. Around the latter, King Uther, Prince Arthur and Sir Leon were standing, all three examining the map with a grave expression on their faces.

"Then we must send troops to stop them before they can go any further," Arthur affirmed. "The villages at the east of the kingdom have suffered from Saxons invasions for decades and decades. And when it's not Saxons, it's Angles. Those people live in constant terror, we can't let it happen once more."

Arthur observed his father. He seemed hesitant.

"How many are they?" the King questioned.

"Around a hundred men, according to the scouts," Sir Leon provided.

Uther scratched his chin, looking pensively at the map as if assessing the whole situation again.

"Over half our men are already mobilised on the northern front, damned be those barbarian Picts," he finally said. "We can't afford to send more away."

"Sire, I must protest. We can't let our people get killed and pillaged without intervening," Arthur objected.

"I agree. It is of course our duty to keep our people safe," Uther concurred. "But if we send more men, there won't be enough left to protect Camelot and its villagers if the Saxons manage a break through. We can't take that risk."

Arthur nodded. His father was right, of course. Uther had much more experience of battles and strategies. A siege of Camelot was to avoid at all costs, even more than the probable invasion they were about to face.

But he still couldn't bring himself to accept the idea of not being able to help. He examined the map again, hoping for an idea of any kind.

"What about Carmelide?" he suggested. "Carmelide is our ally. Our men fought alongside theirs during that rebellion a few years ago."

Uther shook his head. "I'm afraid Carmelide currently has other concerns of its own."

"Because of last summer's bad weather, their harvests were terrible," Sir Leon explained. "Their supplies are running low and they will be facing a famine soon. Their soldiers are not fit for battle."

And, naturally, they couldn't trade food against military support, Arthur realised. Even if Camelot had been luckier with their harvests, they still hadn't enough supplies to feed a second Kingdom.

"On the other hand, if we don't send troops, the only resistance they will meet is at our outposts here and here," his father pointed out on the map. "But that will only slow them down. They'll be at Camelot's gates in ten days, maybe less."

"If we send word now to our men in the north to leave their posts, they should be able to cut in on the Saxons halfway towards Camelot," Arthur proposed. "We don't need that many men to hold the northern front. Picts are separate clans, they're not as organised and trained as the Saxons."

"The Picts may lack unity, but believe me, their warriors are ferocious," Uther affirmed, pointing at the scar on his brow. "However, you just raised a very interesting point: the Picts are not here as conquerors, while the Saxons are. I'd rather lose some ground to the Picts than the whole Kingdom to the Saxons."

A soft knock at the door interrupted their considerations.

"Come in," Uther invited.

It turned out to be Gwen, carrying a large tray of food.

"My Lords, you asked to have your meals served here," she said with a small bow.

"I'll take care of this," Arthur declared to his companions. His father nodded absent-mindedly, still deep in his thoughts.

As he walked towards her, Arthur couldn't refrain from smiling at Gwen, and his heart beat a little faster when she smiled back.

When he put his hands upon hers to transfer the tray's weight, they lingered there a little longer than necessary.

"Thank you for your trouble," he said softly, his eyes lost in hers.

"You're most welcome, my Lord," she replied with an adorable blush.

Arthur's fingers shifted completely from her warm hands to the cold tray. Once he was done, Gwen bowed again and turned to leave.

As he watched her walk away, he thought again about that talk they'd had several months before. Ever since Gwen had confessed being actually willing to wait for him, it had changed everything.

Of course, the sort of disguised courting that had slowly settled between them since that day – if it could even be called courting – was extremely enjoyable. The long looks, the lingering hands, the single roses forgotten on the corner of a table for her to find when he knew she would come later to clear out...

But their situation was double-edged. The knowledge that their feelings were mutual – even if they hadn't been as far as expressing them openly – made the fact that they couldn't act on them all the more frustrating. Sometimes, it was so nearly unbearable he wondered if it wasn't worse than not knowing at all.

Arthur turned back towards the table and shook his head. He had to focus on the matter at hand. A new idea suddenly crossed his mind while he laid the tray on the table.

"What about diplomacy?" he suggested. "Have we ever tried negotiating with the Saxons?"

Uther shook his head once more. "I have attempted myself countless peace processes with Ortha, Colgrin's predecessor, unsuccessfully. It all ended in an unfortunate bloodbath. And many agree that Colgrin is even craftier than his cousin. You can take my word for it, there's no reasoning with those people."

"Should I send a messenger to the northern front to order our men to move south-east?" Sir Leon asked. "If so, I ought to do it as early as possible."

Uther sighed heavily. "It pains me to leave the north to the Picts' barbarism, but we have to choose the least of two evils. We must stop the Saxons' progression. We don't have any better option than to redeploy our men."

"What about the interception place?" Sir Leon continued. "May I suggest one of our outposts? They're located up hills, it would give our men a significant tactical advantage. And our archers in the outposts would be able to back them up."

"It will take three days for the messenger to reach our soldiers and for them to move south-east," Arthur pointed out. "Won't the Saxons already be beyond the first outpost by then?"

"Indeed," his father agreed. "And we need the second outpost to remain intact so that they can warn us if something turns ill. We will intercept the Saxons halfway between both outposts, here, near the river," he affirmed, pointing at the location on the map. "The crossing of the river will slow the Saxons' progression, and we'll be waiting for them on the other side."

"In any case, we'll always have the home-field advantage, our men know the land," Arthur commented.

"I wouldn't place too much faith in this," Uther countered. "The Saxons have tried to invade us so many times over the last decades, they know the land just as well as we do. And I wouldn't be too surprised if they had a few spies about as well."

"Shall I send the messenger?" Sir Leon queried.

"Yes, please," Uther concurred.

"Right away, Sire," Sir Leon agreed and, with a quick nod, left the two of them alone.

Arthur wasn't entirely pleased with their current plans. It took him several seconds to find out why. "We should send someone there to coordinate the troops," he began.

"I'm sure Sir Leon will handle that perfectly," his father assured.

"I wish to go."

"No," Uther replied categorically. "There's no need for you to endanger yourself uselessly."

"It wouldn't be uselessly. These men will be leaving a front to join another, they need to be remotivated."

"They are soldiers. They need no other motivation than to know they're fighting for their Kingdom."

"I beg to differ, Sire," Arthur retorted with assertiveness.

"Really? And why is that?" Uther questioned, crossing his arms over his chest. Arthur could tell his cockiness had irritated his father.

"You know how well our men fight when you join them on the battlefield. Their King's presence galvanises them. Your presence there would be a great asset, but we both know you're still suffering from that leg injury occasioned by your horse fall. I should go instead," he concluded.

Uther unconsciously rubbed his left thigh. It had been a few weeks already since that horse fall, and he never mentioned it any more. But Arthur knew his father well. Even if the limp was almost imperceptible and the winces very rare and always well concealed, he could tell the pain was there.

"If I leave today I'll be there before our men," Arthur insisted. "That will give me time to study the grounds and prepare a battle plan."

Uther observed him pensively for a long moment. "You are a good military leader, I'll give you that," he finally said.

"Thank you, Sire," Arthur replied, unable to contain a smile. When it came to his father, praise was hard to come by. You had to take it whenever you could.

"You shall go there," Uther eventually agreed. "But be careful. The Saxons fight like they have nothing to lose."

"I will. Thank you," he said again, and turned to leave.

"Arthur," his father called back.

"Yes?"

"We can't afford to lose this battle," Uther reminded.

Arthur nodded. "I won't disappoint you, Sire."

* * *

Chapter 3 "Worries" will be posted on Sunday


	3. Chapter 3: Worries

**Chapter 3: Worries**

The words he had heard the previous night kept dancing in Merlin's head. Someone had mentioned killing the King. Had they just been idle words, spoken only for show? Or had he uncovered an actual conspiracy against Uther? How could he find out for certain? Should he tell anyone? Should he tell Arthur?

Merlin looked up from his current task and gave a look around. Hadn't he been moping the very same area of the laboratory for at least ten minutes? He sighed, realising he didn't even manage to concentrate on such a simple task.

But what should he do, he wondered again? He had no way of finding the identity of the potential conspirator. After hearing those words, he had spent the rest of the night joining each group successively, hoping to overhear the same conversation again, or at least recognise a voice.

In the end, he had come back to Camelot with no more information and had had trouble finding sleep.

Merlin examined his mop pensively. How late was it, midday maybe? And he still hadn't managed to get anything done! This was getting ridiculous, how could he be so worked up over those few words?

The laboratory's door opened abruptly.

"Ah, Merlin, there you are!" Arthur exclaimed as he walked in.

"Arthur, great! I've been meaning to talk to you, I -"

But the Prince wasn't listening to him. "We're leaving for the battlefield in an hour to intercept a Saxon invasion," he explained hurriedly. "Go to the Great Hall and pack the lunch I left there, we'll eat on the way. And then go prepare our horses, I'll meet you in the stables."

"Wait, do you have a -" Merlin began, but the door slammed shut before he could end his sentence: "- second to spare?" he finished with a sigh.

Then, looking down to the still wet floor, he continued for himself in a deeper voice: "_Of course not. I'm Prince Arthur. I don't have time to spare for anyone._"

He snorted and picked up the mop and water bucket. "But I have something important to tell you!" he went on with his normal voice.

He carried both mop and bucket away, avoiding the wet and slippery area. "_It can't be more important than what I'm doing_," he kept going with his 'Arthur' voice._ "Because I'm busy saving the Kingdom. Again. And I will get all the credit even if you have to save my life twice in the process. And even if I can't put my own shoes alone without the help of_ -"

Merlin stopped abruptly when he put down the mop and bucket and turned towards the door again. Gaius was standing on the doorstep and staring at him, looking a little dumbfounded.

How could such an old man enter a room so silently? Though it could have been worse, _Arthur_ could have come back...

"During your little... _excursion_ last night... Did you inhale any unusual substance?" Gaius asked.

"No?" Merlin answered tentatively. He _had_ examined this strange smelly potion at some point.

"I was rather hoping you did..."

"I had a short night..." Merlin provided as an excuse.

"Hmm," Gaius said in a slur. "I came across Arthur in the hallway. I was under the impression you were to leave soon...?"

"Yes, indeed, we are. I, er... Yes. I should go."

"Is there anything wrong?"

"No. Not yet. I'm not sure," Merlin mumbled.

"Well, when you are, you know where to find me."

Merlin nodded and left the laboratory. He immediately headed for the Great Hall, thinking back about how hurried Arthur had been.

He didn't know much about the Saxons, barely that it wasn't their first attempt at invading Camelot. Back in Ealdor, this didn't matter much. On a couple of occasions, when the situation justified it, Arthur had tried to teach him a few things about geopolitics, but he had never quite managed to get him interested.

But at least he was glad Arthur had included him in the departing party apparently without a single afterthought. Not so long ago, he would have had to trick Arthur into letting him come along.

Merlin entered the Great Hall without knocking, but soon realised he wasn't alone.

"I'm sorry Sire, I didn't expect you here," he immediately apologised to Uther who was standing next to the central table and looking at what seemed to be a map. "Arthur sent me to fetch the food," he explained.

Uther waved his hand dismissively, never looking up from the map. He obviously hadn't listened to a single word, and didn't even spare a single glance for Merlin as the latter moved closer and picked up the intact tray of food. Seeing Uther had the same preoccupied look as Arthur, Merlin decided it was best not to bother the King with his presence any longer.

Just as he turned to leave, Morgana barged in the room. "Sire," she called and immediately headed for Uther without paying any attention to Merlin. He moved away but managed to catch a quick glimpse of Uther's irritated expression at the interruption.

"Not now, Morgana."

"Arthur just informed me he was about to leave to meet with the Saxons."

Uther sighed impatiently. "It's an invasion. He's leaving to fight them off."

"I hear King Colgrin hasn't forbidden the use of magic in his Kingdom," was the last sentence Merlin heard before the door closed behind him.

Was Morgana crazy, talking about magic like this with the King, out of the blue? With a mix of both worry for Morgana and curiosity, Merlin put the tray down on the ground and opened the heavy door carefully, ever so slightly, just enough to see Uther had finally looked up from the map.

"Morgana, I am amazed at how, those last few months, you have managed to make any subject into something related to magic," the King said.

So it hadn't been the first time Morgana discussed magic with Uther... Could her recent awareness of her own powers have made her that careless?

"I wish to leave with Arthur and talk to the Saxons," she stated.

Uther's sudden laugh was both unexpected and unusual. "Don't be ridiculous. It is a war, not a tea party. It is no place for a woman."

"I'm perfectly capable of defending myself if the need arises," she contested.

Uther shook his head with amusement. "And what on earth would you ever want to discuss with the Saxons? Magic?"

"I was hoping that maybe... instead of executing any magic user, we could find an agreement with the Saxons to let them live peacefully on Saxon land."

Uther laughed again. "I should have a word with your tutors for letting you become such an idealist."

Morgana pursed her lips. "I had no idea idealism was such a fault."

"Colgrin may be willing to let such creatures of evil proliferate in his Kingdom, I doubt he'd allow anyone from Camelot to live long on his land, let alone peacefully," Uther replied. "Besides, any magic sympathizer deserves the same fate as sorcerers. I won't always be that indulgent with you, Morgana. You will _not_ leave the castle. The matter is closed," he concluded.

Obviously upset, Morgana turned round abruptly and headed back towards the door – and towards Merlin. He immediately closed the door, hastily but as silently as possible, picked up the tray and walked away at a fast pace.

He hadn't reached the corner yet when he heard the Great Hall's door open and close again. Keep walking, he told himself. Keep walking, don't look back.

"Merlin?" Morgana called.

He stopped, took a deep breath, and turned to face her. "Yes?"

She stared at him suspiciously for a few seconds in silence, but eventually shook her head slightly. Merlin took that as an implicit order to continue on his way. Which he gladly did.

Morgana was playing a dangerous game, he thought a few minutes later while packing the food in the castle's kitchens. Provoking Uther like that, even if the King was surprisingly forgiving.

Sometimes, Merlin regretted that Morgana had forgotten finding out about his powers – even if she had resented him for hiding it from her all this time. Sometimes, he wished he had the courage to tell her the truth – and to tell her himself this time.

Once he was done with the food, he headed for the stables. He had barely begun to saddle the first horse and was struggling with the leather girths when Arthur entered.

"What are you doing?" he asked, sounding upset.

"I'm saddling the horses, like you asked me," Merlin replied.

"Still? You're not done yet? Well hurry up, will you? We have to get there as soon as possible," Arthur rushed him and crossed his arms impatiently.

The prince kept observing him as he worked, then sighed and walked to him. "Take care of the other, I'll finish this one."

Merlin moved to the second horse while Arthur took over. He was a little surprised by Arthur's attitude; he wasn't usually _that_ short-tempered. "This invasion. It's serious, isn't it?" he asked.

"Yes, quite," Arthur answered concisely.

Merlin couldn't help but think about what he'd heard the previous night again. A commotion, killing the King... "Is it safe to leave Camelot now?"

"Waiting would be a mistake, and would make Camelot a lot less safe. Why?" Arthur questioned.

Merlin shrugged. "I don't know, I was just... wondering," he finished and focused on his task. He was very aware of Arthur staring at him.

"Merlin, is there something I should know?"

He hesitated. Arthur already seemed very preoccupied by the Saxons. Should he bother him with what could easily be no more than chattering, all the while admitting going to a sorcerers' gathering? Was he ready for that? Were _they_ ready for that?

Still unsure, he shook his head.

"Then stop wasting my time and saddle this horse! All the knights are already waiting for us outside!"

They continued in silence until both horses were ready for the ride. But as they were about to leave, Gwen entered the stables slowly with hesitant steps.

Arthur stopped dead in his tracks. "Guinevere," he greeted quietly, and she smiled at him.

Merlin observed the two of them alternatively. They were looking at each other as if he wasn't even there – well, people seemed very keen on ignoring him that day... He couldn't help but smile, amazed at how quick Arthur's irritability had vanished and how his general attitude had softened as soon as Gwen had appeared.

He took the reins from Arthur's hands. "Your horse will be waiting for you outside, Sire," he said while leading both horses out of the stables.

* * *

Coming next: Chapter 4 "On the Road"


	4. Chapter 4: On the Road

**Chapter 4: On the Road**

Arthur watched Gwen as she waited shyly for Merlin to leave the stables. He wouldn't admit it, but he was glad Merlin had taken the hint on his own. Arthur wasn't sure when was the last time he and Gwen had managed to be alone together. Weeks probably, maybe even months. In any case, being able to talk to her before leaving for battle was more than welcome.

"I heard you tell Morgana you were leaving," Gwen said softly.

"Yes, I was hoping you would." Actually, it was the only reason he'd gone to tell Morgana. "I'm afraid I don't have much time, we need to go as soon as possible."

"Of course, I understand," Gwen agreed with a nod. "Well then I wish you good luck and... to return safely."

Arthur finally noticed that look in her eyes. "You're worried!" he exclaimed with a smug smile.

Gwen blushed a little. "Would you rather I weren't?" she questioned.

"No, of course not," he assured. "It comforts me to know there will be at least one person here worrying about me, especially if it's you." As he spoke, he picked up her hand delicately. Her blush deepened while his smile widened. "Besides, it's not the first time I leave for battle like this, and it certainly won't be the last. There's no reason to be more worried today than any other day."

"I know... But I overheard the knights on my way here, and they said - "

"I'll be all right," Arthur promised.

Gwen nodded again, this time looking somewhat reassured. "Then I shall let you be on your way and not delay you any further."

Much to Arthur's disappointment, Gwen's hand slipped out of his.

Why weren't things easier between them? They should be, they'd talked about it. Maybe if he stopped thinking so much and just...

Out of pure instinct, he bent down and kissed Gwen. His heart beat wildly as he felt her soft and warm lips against his. When the kiss deepened, his hands found hers and, very naturally, their fingers intertwined, palm against palm. He instantly forgot about the stench of the stables as he engrossed himself in the intoxicating flowery scent of her hair.

After what could have been seconds or an hour, an unfortunate thought brought him back to reality and prompted him to pull away. "I really have to go..." he whispered.

Gwen nodded with understanding, but how could he leave when she was looking at him like that? He allowed himself one last courtly kiss on the back of her hand before letting go of her and turning away.

He left the stables, aching to look back but unwilling to do so in front of the knights, all waiting nearby. As he got on his horse, he caught Merlin's stupid smile.

"If I hear a single word about this..." he warned.

"About what?" Merlin questioned cockily, his grin widening.

Arthur sighed, shook his head, and urged his horse forward. He tried his best to focus on the critical upcoming battle, but later that day, when they were halfway to their destination and settling a camp for the night, and when he was sitting by the fire, he still couldn't get his mind away from Gwen.

And judging from Merlin's first words when he sat next to him, he had noticed.

"So, feeling lonely?" his manservant asked joyfully.

"I said no word, Merlin," Arthur scolded.

"I didn't say anything," Merlin contested. "Besides, it's your royal prerogative to daydream about whomever you may fancy."

Arthur sighed. "What about _your_ daydreaming, Merlin?"

"I haven't been daydreaming," Merlin contested.

"Really? Every time we travel, you complain about how tired you are or how sore your back is, but you haven't said anything all afternoon."

"Just like you ordered. And maybe I'm just finally getting better at horse riding."

Arthur smiled at Merlin's defensive tone. There _was_ something on his mind. Or was it _someone_, he thought while his smile grew. "All right, what's her name?"

Merlin hesitated during a long moment. "It's not about someone," he finally confessed.

"Then what is it?" Arthur insisted.

"I... can't tell."

"Fine. Then don't -" he began, until he noticed Merlin's furtive glances to the knights walking by, busy preparing the camp for the night. "Oh," he mouthed. It was about _that_. Magic. Did he really want to know more? He wondered.

"Let's take a walk," he eventually invited. Once they were far enough from the encampment, Arthur encouraged Merlin to talk: "So?"

Merlin looked even more hesitant to speak than he had been until then. Arthur guessed it was probably as hard for Merlin to tell than he expected it to be for him to hear.

"Last night, I went to a gathering. A sorcerers' gathering."

Arthur forced himself to nod. So they had gatherings. Gatherings full of people with magic. All right. _That_ was a reassuring thought.

"It's very new for me," Merlin continued. "I don't know what usually happens there, but last night I overheard a conversation. Someone talked about killing the King."

A gathering of sorcerers plotting against the King. Even better.

"I wasn't sure I should tell you. I mean, ever since you found out, we never really..." Merlin left the sentence hanging.

Arthur couldn't agree more. They hadn't ever actually discussed Merlin's _gift_. Though it wasn't for lack of trying, at least on his part. Several times, he'd tried to push Merlin to admit using magic, but his servant always avoided giving any answer, as if he was still afraid of his reaction.

But at least this time, when it was important, he had agreed to speak. Although he would have preferred Merlin to speak to him earlier, _before_ they left Camelot, back when he could still have rearranged the castle's garrisons to ensure a better security around his father.

"What did you hear exactly?" he asked.

Merlin shrugged. "Someone talked of a commotion that would make it easier to kill the King. I heard nothing more."

"It's probably nothing."

"Nothing? Really?"

"Look, there's a dozen rumours a month about attempts on the King's life. Out of all of those, maybe, and I say _maybe_, one will prove real. People usually don't go beyond the stage of words. And if I don't know at least who, when or how, there isn't much I can do to prevent it. Besides, I'm not surprised to hear about sorcerers plotting against the King. It wouldn't be the first time. I guess you can't expect any better from those people."

Arthur realised his mistake only at Merlin's hurt tone when he said: "I guess not."

"Merlin, I didn't mean - "

"It's all right, I'm used to it," his servant interrupted. "Thanks for your time."

Arthur watched him walk back to the camp. It had been months since he found out about his gift and still... Did his prejudice run too deep? Was that why Merlin was still so reluctant to speak about magic with him?

This was going to take much more time to get adjusted to than he'd thought...

* * *

The next morning, the whole party took to the road again, until they reached the river, the place chosen for the encounter, in the middle of the afternoon. The scouts soon reported to Arthur that the Saxons were a little under two days' walk away. That meant the encounter would take place the day after the next. Meanwhile, reinforcements should arrive from the north around the next evening. The timing was perfect.

Arthur spent the remainder of the day and the beginning of the next preparing the battle plans, with some advice from Sir Leon. He studied the field, decided how to organise the troops. They would exploit the river's turns to guide their enemies right where they wanted them to be. The archers would be posted on the knoll and will start taking them down while they crossed the river.

But during the entire previous night, a thought had bothered him. The Saxons were on a series of military successes, their men were probably in the highest spirits. Whereas the reinforcements Arthur expected had just left the difficulties of the northern front, had been travelling since, and would have to fight after barely one night to rest. Despite the superiority in numbers, it wouldn't be an easy win.

Besides, an alternative had been going through his mind ever since they had left Camelot. He didn't have too much faith in it, and according to his father it wasn't even worth trying, but it was a mistake he was willing to make. In the worst case, it wouldn't change anything to the current situation. But if it worked, there was everything to gain...

Around midday, Arthur gathered all the knights accompanying him. "I need a volunteer to deliver a message to the Saxons. I won't lie to you; it's a dangerous mission, and whoever goes may not return alive."

As could be expected from those valorous men, they all offered to go. Arthur picked one of them and showed him a map of the area.

"I want you to tell their leader that I, Prince Arthur, will be waiting for him there tonight at sundown. I will take only a few men with me and I fully expect him to do the same. Good luck."

As the knight left, Sir Leon joined Arthur. "My Lord, this is madness," he warned. "You can't hope the Saxons to come with only a few men."

"The meeting place is a hill. We'll go there ahead of time, and from the top of the hill, we'll be able to see them arriving, if they come at all. We'll have plenty of time to retreat should they seize this opportunity to attack us."

Sir Leon nodded, but Arthur could tell he disapproved. It didn't matter, his mind was made up. He owed his people at least an attempt at negotiating with the Saxons.

When the time came, a few of them left for the hill. Arthur waited there for the Saxons, four knights by his side including Sir Leon, and Merlin somewhere behind holding all the horses.

The sun was almost setting. If the Saxon troops' leader had agreed to meet him, he should be there soon.

* * *

Author's note:

I'll be away on holidays next week, so no update next Wednesday.

To make up for that lack of update, there will be two new chapters posted on Sunday:

Chapter 5 "Negotiating" and Chapter 6 "Surprise Guest"


	5. Chapter 5: Negociating

**Chapter 5: Negotiating**

Arthur finally saw dust billowing in the distance. Six riders, coming in their direction. There was no sign of any army following them. Once they were close enough, Arthur noticed one of them sported Camelot's red colours: his messenger, coming back alive, his mission accomplished, bringing the Saxons' leader for negotiations.

Arthur turned to his men: "No matter what happens, follow my lead. Is that clear?"

While all the men nodded, Sir Leon took a step closer to him. "My Lord, I still believe this is a bad idea."

"And I still wish to give peace a chance," Arthur insisted. "There will be plenty of time for battle tomorrow."

The riders dismounted a hundred yards away, then walked towards them cautiously, a hand on their swords' pommels and eyeing them suspiciously. Four of the Saxons were standing a step ahead of the fifth in a protective stance. This had to be the leader.

As for the sixth man, the messenger, he headed straight for Arthur.

"Sire," he said with a quick bow. "I would like to introduce you to King Colgrin," he concluded while indicating the man Arthur had already identified as the leader.

"Thank you."

The messenger bowed again and joined his companions.

So, King Colgrin himself. This wasn't good news, Arthur mused. First, because it was always easier to negotiate with a second-in-command, who could be convinced he needed to report back to his superior to obtain his approval. Second, it spoke volumes about how serious this campaign was in the eye of the Saxon ruler if he had chosen to lead his army himself.

Once he had probably evaluated the situation as non-threatening, King Colgrin stepped ahead of his men. As far as Arthur could tell, Colgrin was approximately the same age as his father. He was a tall, dark-haired man with a thick beard. He was quite massive, with the broad shoulders of an experienced warrior. And the way he looked at Arthur was all but engaging.

"King Colgrin," Arthur greeted, extending his hand.

The Saxon ignored his invitation and crossed his arms across his chest. "I came here only out of curiosity as to what Uther's son could possibly have to tell me. Make it quick."

Well, it sounded promising, Arthur thought. He joined his hands behind his back in a composed but also extremely exposed stance. He knew assuming this position to prove his good will was a very dangerous choice. He was within reach of Colgrin's sword and his knights were a step behind him. If Colgrin wanted to cut Arthur's throat, no one would be able to stop him, not even Arthur himself. Colgrin had certainly noticed that. But he had probably also assumed – which was the whole point – that it meant Arthur didn't fear him.

"I am here to offer you a chance to leave this land unharmed without a fight," Arthur declared quietly.

Colgrin smirked. "I will not leave this land until I own it. Are you here to surrender?"

"Of course not."

"Then what are you making me lose my time for?"

Arthur took a deep breath. This was his one chance, he had better not miss it. "We both know what will happen if we fight tomorrow. Good men will die on both sides, but in the end Camelot will win, like we always do. By offering you to leave now I'm giving you a chance to save time and lives. Return to your Kingdom tonight and I will make sure you don't get attacked on your way back."

Colgrin snorted. "Are you trying to teach me the art of War, my _young_ Prince?" With the emphasize he put on the word '_young_', even the title sounded like an offence.

"Why do you keep trying to invade Camelot, year after year?" Arthur asked calmly as if he hadn't caught the barely veiled insult.

The Saxon shrugged. "It's a pretty land," he answered with an amused look.

Indeed, it was. But the true reason was no secret. Camelot was central to many a trade route, and from a military standpoint it was also a strategical location. Whoever wanted to conquer the Isles had to win Camelot first. With their main instigator down, the alliances between the neighbouring Kingdoms were sure to fall with Camelot.

"Is there any way I can make you change your mind?"

"Will you change your mind about surrendering?"

Arthur nodded with understanding. It sounded like it was time to play his last card: provocation.

"Very well. We'll settle this on the battlefield tomorrow, then."

With those last words, Arthur turned on his heels and headed straight for the horses. It took his knights a few seconds to react, and Arthur could easily understand why. They all had in mind the number one rule in every military book: never turn your back to an enemy. But after the initial hesitation, they all followed him.

The Saxons didn't move, probably surprised as well. When Arthur took his horse's reins from Merlin's hands, he read a lot of incomprehension and confusion in his servant's eyes.

"Wait," King Colgrin called, but his voice lacked conviction.

Arthur ignored him and lifted his foot to the stirrup.

"Wait, _my Lord_."

Ah, there it was at last. For the first time, a hint of something that could pass as respect – even if it was in fact nothing more than exasperation.

He put his foot down and turned to Colgrin again. "By coming here, you satisfied your curiosity, and by giving you the opportunity to leave, I eased my conscience. I won't feel guilty tomorrow when I have to kill you and your men. I don't think there's anything to add, is there?"

Arthur didn't wait for an answer and got on his horse.

"Is this how Uther taught you to negotiate?" the Saxon King teased.

"The time for negotiations is over. You had your chance," he replied firmly and began to lead his horse away. The knights followed his example.

"I thought you'd put a little more heart into them."

Arthur stopped his horse. He was now certain of one thing: King Colgrin didn't come solely out of curiosity. He _did_ hope to get something out of these talks, otherwise he wouldn't stall like that.

He turned his horse around and glared at Colgrin. "I was under the impression you weren't open to negotiations. Did I understand incorrectly?"

"You didn't," the Saxon confirmed. "But I like your attitude."

Really, did he?

"However, I don't negotiate with second-in-commands," Colgrin continued.

"Be assured that the King gave me full authority to deal with this matter."

"You mean Uther wants peace?" Colgrin exclaimed on a disbelieving tone. "If so, why didn't he come himself? Why aren't I having this conversation with him?"

Arthur observed the Saxon silently. "What is it you want, exactly?" he finally asked boldly. It truly was a puzzle to him.

Colgrin smiled. "Make Uther come here. Then maybe I'll consider negotiating with him."

Was that it? Arthur wondered. Did he just want to bring his father directly into the conflict? This had to hide something.

Maybe it was time to return to more conventional diplomacy...

"I'm afraid I can't grant this request," Arthur answered carefully. "However, if you're so eager to meet with the King, then I shall invite you to come back to Camelot with me, where I am sure he will greet you with great pleasure."

Colgrin gave a laugh. "Do you really think me that stupid, my young Prince? Do you really believe I will fall into your trap so easily? What awaits me when I cross the City's gates?"

"Nothing, there is no trap," Arthur replied truthfully. "You're free to reject this invitation. But if you truly want to meet with the King, then this is the only way."

The Saxon observed him silently for a long moment. "My men will remain here."

"As will mine," Arthur assured.

"I will leave orders. If anything happens to me while in Camelot, you will instantly have a war on your hands," Colgrin warned.

"I expect no less," Arthur agreed. "However, you need not worry. Nothing will happen in Camelot other than you, the King and I, sitting around a table to discuss calmly this eternal conflict between our two Kingdoms and, hopefully, reach a reasonable agreement."

"A reasonable agreement," Colgrin repeated with a snort. "You mean a peace treaty. I have nothing to win in this."

"Oh, I'm sure we can think of a common enemy we could unite against," Arthur argued. He knew his geography and his history well enough to know that the Saxons too suffered from regular attacks from other people, like the Angles and the Jutes.

Until then, Colgrin had only been playing along, with no real intention to come to Camelot. But after this last sentence, Arthur saw something click in Colgrin's eyes. His piercing and insistent look had suddenly turned into a thoughtful, faraway gaze as he probably envisioned what an alliance could bring to him and his Kingdom.

Later on, Arthur would proudly remember this instant like the one he had managed the incredible feat of convincing the Saxon King to leave the battlefield and come to Camelot negotiate peace with his father.

If only he'd known... If only he'd know back then the wave of catastrophes he was giving rise to...

"All right," Colgrin agreed at last. "After all, Uther is the one who put me on the throne by slaying my cousin, I suppose I owe him at least a visit to thank him."


	6. Chapter 6: Surprise Guest

**Chapter 6: Surprise Guest**

They reached Camelot late, after sundown, two days later. Arthur had sent a messenger ahead of them to warn the King of their return with Colgrin. As Merlin could see once they had crossed the city's gates, the message had been well received: even if it was already dark, the streets seemed cleaner than they'd ever been.

Someone was trying to make a great impression...

As for Arthur, during the entire trip back, he had been sporting a wide smile, full of confidence. He was obviously very proud of himself. He should be, naturally, but Merlin couldn't help but think it was a pity it had taken so long for the Prince to get rid of his big ego to see it return so quickly...

When they entered the castle's courtyard, the King and several knights and servants were waiting for them. Uther greeted Colgrin as soon as he dismounted. Merlin stood his position while a few polite words were exchanged.

The whole conversation was extremely formal and maybe a little cold and tense, but it was quickly agreed that it was late, that the travellers were tired and needed rest, and that they would be better advised to put off any negotiation until the next day.

Soon, Uther ordered a few servants to escort King Colgrin and his guards to the guest chambers. Once all the Saxons had left the courtyard, Arthur handed his horse's reins to Merlin without a word and walked up to his father. Merlin took it as an implicit dismissal, and pulled his horse and Arthur's towards the stables.

"So, King Colgrin agreeing to come and discuss peace," he heard Uther sum up behind him. "I wouldn't believe it until I saw it. You didn't follow my instructions, but I was wrong to assume it was no use trying. You did well."

When Merlin gave a quick look behind him, he saw Uther's pat on his son's shoulder. Arthur seemed as happy as his father sounded impressed by his accomplishment. Merlin was glad for Arthur too, seeing him get his father's recognition and approval like he always yearned to.

"Nothing is done yet," Arthur countered, "I only managed to bring him here. What will happen tomorrow will be crucial, we can't miss that opportunity."

Merlin left the horses at the stables and immediately headed for the laboratory, right on time for dinner. Apparently, Gaius had been expecting him, and had prepared a meal for two. He had heard rumours about talks with the Saxons – just like everyone in Camelot probably had by then – and was quite eager to find out more about how it had been made possible.

His mouth half full, Merlin tried to retell as accurately as possible how Arthur had taken upon himself to meet with the Saxon King despite his father's orders, and how he had managed against all odds to convince him to come back to Camelot with him.

"I thought he was going to give up and leave. But it only aroused Colgrin's interest even more. It was so impressive, the way he managed to turn things around like that."

Gaius smiled. "I see Arthur got himself a new admirer..."

"Who, Colgrin?" Merlin asked. Gaius arched an eyebrow. "Me? No, I'm just..."

"Impressed, yes. As I'm sure anyone who was there ought to be. Despite all his faults, Uther _did_ attempt several times to find an agreement with the Saxons, but to no avail. I guess Arthur has a skill that his father lacks: a keen sense of adaptation. When Uther is convinced something should be done one way, it's near impossible to make him change his mind," Gaius pointed out, and fell silent, thoughtful.

Merlin pondered Gaius' last statements. He was right. Uther was a good diplomat. And Arthur may still lack a little experience, Merlin knew he would become a better one than his father. So if Uther had managed to establish peace with nearly all the neighbouring Kingdoms, what will Arthur be able to accomplish in a few years?

"I never met King Colgrin," Gaius continued, "only Octha, his predecessor. He was a tyran in the true sense of the word, who always refused to see reason. In the end, it cost him his life. I wonder if Colgrin is really any different, I hear he's not any easier than his cousin... I can't wait to see how things eventually turn out..."

Once dinner was over, Merlin returned to his room. He was tired, but out of habit he started preparing the mixture that let him know about the sorcerers gatherings. He had done it enough times before for the movements to be almost automatic. But when he muttered the spell after adding the last ingredient, the green mixture instantly turned translucent.

Surprised, Merlin lifted the vial to eye level for closer examination. Had he gone wrong somewhere? He mentally repeated the entire preparation. No, he was pretty sure he had everything right. Then there was only one explanation left: there was another gathering that very night.

Why? Why another one so soon, only a week after the previous one? Could it be only coincidental that it was precisely on the same night King Colgrin arrived in Camelot?

Without a single thought about his tiredness, Merlin drank the potion in one gulp.

* * *

Merlin reached the gathering a little late, when it had already begun. Slowly, he joined one of the groups, but soon realised he wasn't paying much attention to the ongoing conversation. He was more tired than he'd thought, and he wasn't really in the mood for a debate on how to slice some root properly. Maybe he shouldn't have come.

His gaze wandered to the other groups. He recognised a few faces from the previous gathering. There were some he was sure he'd never seen before. Maybe everyone didn't come to _every_ gathering.

And then he saw her.

Morgana.

Instinctively, he checked his hood to make sure his face was concealed, and took several steps back, retreating to the darkness offered by the clearing's edge, but always keeping his eyes on her.

What was she doing there? Had she seen him? And how did she know about those gatherings? A hundred questions were churning around in Merlin's head.

Morgana was in the middle of a group made of six sorcerers. She seemed to be the one talking the most, and appeared to be at ease.

"_Hyran An_," he whispered, concentrating on the group.

"He arrived a few hours ago, I saw him," he heard Morgana say as if he were standing right next to her.

"Why would King Colgrin want to have anything to do with us?" one of the others chimed in.

"In his Kingdom, sorcerers are allowed to live freely," Morgana replied. "And come on, we are powerful. We're everywhere, we're a force to reckon with."

"I'm still not sure about this," a third one said.

"I will talk to him. Alone, if need be," Morgana insisted. "I'm sure he'll understand. He might offer some help."

"Hey, I almost didn't see you there!"

Merlin jumped at the sound of the enthusiastic voice and the touch of a hand on his shoulder.

"Oh, sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," the other warlock apologised.

When Merlin turned to face him, he finally identified him as Elias, a young sorcerer he'd met a few months before when he'd been caught by Camelot's guards at one of those gatherings.

"I was beginning to think we'd never see you around here," Elias commented. "It's been months since Li-... my cousin told you how to come to these gatherings," he continued, stuttering at mid-sentence when he probably remembered they were all supposed to keep anonymous.

"I know, it took me some time to make up my mind, I wasn't sure I should come at all. What about your cousin, how is she doing?" Merlin queried. "I don't think I saw her tonight."

"No, these days she's a little too busy back home being married and with child," Elias answered.

"Really? Well, you'll convey my best wishes to your cousin and her husband for me," Merlin requested. His gaze found Morgana again. She hadn't moved and was still talking to the same group of sorcerers.

"I don't think it was a good idea to have her come," Elias said casually. He had apparently followed his gaze and was talking about Morgana.

"Do you know who told her how to come to the gatherings?" Merlin asked.

Elias stared at him for a second. "Well, until you asked this question, I thought _you_ had."

Merlin shook his head.

"In any case, ever since _she_ started showing up, my cousin suddenly decided to stop coming at all," Elias continued. "I don't know what happened that time in Camelot with her, the lady, and you, but she's very categorical and won't talk about it, so I'm guessing it's something important, but if -"

"Wait wait wait," Merlin finally caught up. "This isn't the first time Mo-... the lady comes here?"

It was Elias' turn to shake his head.

"How long has she been coming?"

Elias shrugged. "I don't know, a month? Two maybe?"

Merlin observed Morgana again. "I can't come to the gatherings any more," he stated. "Not with her around, she could recognise me."

"You mean she doesn't know you're a sorcerer?"

Merlin glared at Elias. Why did everyone assume that two people with magic who knew each other should tell one another about their gifts?

"I need a favour," he declared.

"What kind of favour?"

"I won't come again, but I need to stay informed about what happens here," Merlin clarified. Especially if it involved Morgana, he added mentally.

"Oh, no. No, no, no," Elias immediately refused. "I'm not getting involved in this."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't! I don't get involved! This is none of my business!" Elias exclaimed. "Besides, I don't like the turn these meetings are taking. Recently, it's become much more about politics and activism than it used to be, and that's not what I came for in the first place."

"That's precisely why I need to know what's going on here," Merlin insisted.

Elias sighed. "And if something _does_ happen, what am I supposed to do, come to Camelot to warn you? The guards will recognise me!"

"It's been months, they won't!" Merlin assured. "Come on, all I'm asking is to keep your ears open when you come here, and alert me when something unusual happens. Nothing more."

Elias sighed again. "All right, I suppose I can do that. I guess I owe you one, you _did_ help my cousin escape."

"Great. Thank you. Thank you very much. I'll make it up to you," Merlin concluded while his gaze fell on Morgana again. She was moving.

He heard Elias sigh once more. "Go before she sees you," he advised. When Merlin didn't move, he urged: "I'll keep an eye on her for you, go!"

Merlin nodded. "Thanks," he said simply, and turned around to leave.

He headed back towards the castle. Morgana's presence at those gatherings worried him very much, and not because she could have seen him at the previous one. _Someone_ had told her the way to come, but who? What sorcerers was Morgana in enough regular contact with for them to invite her there? And what sort of influence did they have on her?

* * *

Author's note: I'm leaving on holidays in a few minutes! When I come back next Sunday, I want hundreds of reviews to read! :-D

Besides, I'm 20 chapters ahead of the posted chapters (I'm currently finishing chapter 25), so any unusually high number of reviews might prompt me to post 2 chapters at once :-)

Next Sunday: chapter 7 "Decisions" (and perhaps chapter 8 "Shocking News"!)


	7. Chapter 7: Decisions

**Chapter 7: Decisions**

Uther was sitting at the head of the central table in the Great Hall. Arthur was at his right, while Colgrin was at his left. A dozen blank pieces of parchment were scattered over the table, a clear sign of their vain attempt at finding an agreement.

The negotiations had begun shortly after dawn. Arthur had decided to remain mostly silent and to let his father lead the entire talks, since Colgrin had made clear he wanted to negotiate with the King himself. So he was there as a mere observer and intervened only occasionally, as a mediator when he felt his father began to lose patience in front of the wall of defiance he was facing.

This was taking forever, and Uther and Colgrin didn't seem to manage to find any common ground. However, Uther was putting more good will in this than Arthur had ever seen him do. But Colgrin remained extremely distrustful; nothing ever seemed to suit him completely.

"I maintain that we should unite against the Angles and the Jutes," Uther insisted. "We both suffer from their invasions, a strong alliance between our Kingdoms would be dissuasive."

"Of course," Colgrin said on a mocking tone. "The front is near the Saxon border, so once it has been cleared your troops will be able to take a straight line towards my capital."

Uther sighed heavily. "Like I already stated, I have absolutely no desire to expand my Kingdom. I only wish to maintain peace within its borders."

Colgrin smirked. "So do I..."

Arthur observed his father. His patience was wearing thin, but Uther controlled his temper in order to try and make this work.

"What about the Vandals?" Uther continued. "Their land is all the way across your territories, how can they attack us so regularly?"

"I have an agreement with the Vandals," Colgrin stated simply. "I feed them, and they cross my lands peacefully."

"You feed the Vandals," Uther repeated. He sounded calm, but Arthur could tell he was boiling with rage. He remained silent during several long seconds. "Can we at least agree not to invade each other's Kingdoms?"

"Oh, we certainly could, but how long would that last?"

And there they were again. This seemed to be Colgrin's main concern: what guarantee did he have that he could trust Camelot to maintain a lasting peace? That if he lowered his guard, Camelot wouldn't betray him?

"King Colgrin," Arthur intervened, "if you went to all the trouble of coming here, it must mean you want peace as much as we do. But if you believe any agreement reached today will inevitably be violated, then what's the point?"

Uther grabbed his arm in an attempt to stop him. "Arthur, this isn't - "

"You must have a rather precise idea of the terms you'd be willing to accept," Arthur continued, "so why don't you tell us what they are?"

His father gave him a scolding look, but Arthur ignored it and kept staring at Colgrin. The cheeky approach had worked once, why wouldn't it work a second time?

Uther sighed. "Please forgive my son's impetuosity. He's... a little too eager to close this deal."

"No, he's right. We keep going around in circles," Colgrin agreed. "Let's take a step forward."

Uther seemed a little surprised, but nodded. "All right, I'm listening."

Colgrin lied back in his seat with a concentrated look on his face. He remained there, thoughtful, during several minutes.

"I know terms I would be willing to accept," he finally said. "Terms fully tried and proven."

"What are those terms?" Uther urged.

Colgrin took another second to choose his words carefully. "My youngest daughter is about the same age as the Prince," he declared, talking to Uther but looking at Arthur.

Arthur couldn't refrain a flinch.

"Are you suggesting that my son marry your daughter?" Uther asked on a slightly outraged tone.

"I'm only trying to point out that family ties would be the strongest," Colgrin replied with a shrug. "I think we both know the good that can come from an arranged marriage, don't we, Uther?"

Arthur's gaze instantly switched to his father. Was what Colgrin was implying true? Had his parents' marriage been arranged? Uther remained impassible despite Colgrin's unspoken accusation, but there was no denial either.

"I agree that an arranged marriage can make up for a great alliance," Uther replied. "But as my sole heir, my son is a fine match."

Arthur suddenly felt extremely uncomfortable. He raised his arm and made to speak, hoping to interrupt this conversation, but he was completely ignored by both Kings.

"Do you really think you could find a better prospect for your son?" Colgrin countered. "You said it yourself, our alliance would scare off Angles and Jutes alike. And you know there would be no more point for me to invade the future Kingdom of my son-in-law."

Arthur now not only felt uncomfortable, he also felt sick. He felt like he were nothing more than a debated piece of meat. Was any of them even aware he was still there?

He coughed with insistence, which finally caught his father's attention.

"This is something I should discuss with my son, alone," Uther said as he stood up. "If you will excuse us, we will be back shortly."

"Of course," Colgrin agreed while Arthur followed his father out of the Great Hall. "I'll be waiting."

Uther remained silent until the doors were firmly shut behind them. Arthur must have looked a little lost, for his father grabbed both his shoulders to look at him straight in the eyes.

"Arthur," he began on a soothing tone. "I know none of this is easy to hear for you, but arranged marriages are quite common for people of our ranks."

Arthur shook his head. Did he think he was child? That he didn't already know that?

"King Breccan and his Duchess, Prince Ferghus, Princess Marden..." Uther enumerated.

"You and Mother?" Arthur provided.

Uther released him slowly. He seemed embarrassed. "Your mother and I have loved each other deeply," he began carefully. "But it is true the marriage came first."

Arthur turned away from his father and crossed his arms over his chest, furious with himself. He wasn't naive. He knew positions of power were the object of many a covetousness, and arranged marriages _were_ a good way of taking a few steps up. Then why had it never occurred to him that his parents' marriage could have been arranged? And why had he always thought he'd somehow escape this phenomenon himself?

"Whether you like it or not, as my heir, you _are_ a good match," his father continued. "This isn't the first time I receive this sort of offer. Several Lords and Sovereigns have suggested before you should marry one of their daughters. Some even half your age."

Arthur turned back towards his father abruptly. "Half my age?" he repeated. Now he was positively disgusted. Marry him to a child girl? "This is ridiculous."

"That's what I told them," Uther agreed. "I've always refused the very instant I received those offers. That's why I never bothered you with that, it wasn't worth mentioning."

Arthur snorted. "You could have slipped a word or two about it," he reproached.

Uther sighed. "Maybe I should have," he admitted. "In any case, I never had any offer from a Saxon ruler. This is... quite new. And I do hope you realise this is no easy decision to make, for anyone."

"I do." Arthur closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "I will abide by your command, Sire," he said in a whisper as he opened his eyes again.

His father seemed surprised by his statement. He shook his head. "I will not make this decision for you."

Arthur stared back at him. "You want me to choose?" He was abashed. This decision would affect the whole Kingdom, how could the King delegate it to him?

"This is too life-changing. Looking back, I would have wanted to be given the same opportunity to choose for myself. Even if I would have made the same decision."

"This is not just about getting married or not," Arthur reminded.

"You're the one who made this negotiation possible in the first place, you should have the final decision."

The final decision... A choice between a war that would have happened anyway, and an alliance through a marriage to a stranger he'd never met...

"What would you do?" he asked his father.

Uther seemed hesitant. "An alliance with the Saxon would be, as you know, incredibly valuable. It would greatly improve the whole situation at the east of the Kingdom. However, I do not wish to see you marry a Saxon woman or to let this man enter our family."

Arthur sighed. He hadn't answered his question.

"Arthur, no matter what you choose," his father continued, "be assured I will not think any less of you."

Arthur nodded. He knew his father was telling the truth and already esteemed him for bringing Colgrin there. Now he had to decide if he was willing to make this sort of sacrifice in order to give shape to his diplomatic efforts.

His thoughts flew to Gwen. He would be lying if he said he hadn't considered even once to maybe marry her some day. He had, on a couple of occasions. But it had always seemed like something distant and highly hypothetical. But at the same time, incredibly appealing... Would he be willing to give that up for the sake of his Kingdom?

"Arthur, I do not wish to rush you, but we have to give Colgrin an answer soon," Uther urged him.

He nodded. "I've made my decision. Let's get back inside."

Maybe it would be easier if he didn't think too much about it and stopped wondering if he'd regret his choice.

* * *

Autor's notes: I'm posting a few hours later than usual since I only just got back (why are holidays always too short?).

Usual number of reviews, so usual number of chapters! :-D

Come back on Wednesday for chapter 8 "Shocking News"


	8. Chapter 8: Shocking News

**Chapter 8: Shocking News**

Merlin lifted the latch and, keeping the door open with his shoulder, grabbed the bucket of water and mop he had left on the ground. Then he proceeded into Arthur's chambers, letting the door slam behind him. He was startled when he saw Arthur was there, sitting at his table and apparently deep in his thoughts.

"Oh, sorry, I had no idea the negotiations were already over," he apologised. "I'll come back later to clean the room."

Arthur remained still and silent. He didn't even acknowledge his presence.

Merlin frowned. "Unless you don't mind if I work while you're still here...?"

Arthur mumbled something inaudible. It could have been an agreement.

Oh, well. He had work to do.

Starting at the opposite corner of the room from Arthur's seat, Merlin set about moping the floor. But as he did so, he kept a curious eye on the other young man - who was still to show any sign that he had noticed Merlin. Every once in a while, Arthur would slightly shake his head or mutter a few incomprehensible syllables. Merlin didn't want to disturb him but... he looked so preoccupied and was so absorbed in his thoughts it was intriguing.

"Nice weather we're having today, Sire," Merlin said casually.

No reaction.

"Gaius said autumn would be clement this year," he continued.

Still nothing.

"I could say absolutely anything and you still wouldn't say a word, would you? I could question your intelligence, mention your oversized ego...?"

Merlin was now close to Arthur. This lack of awareness of his surroundings was truly amazing. Quite worrying, too. What could be troubling him so much?

"Arthur?"

The Prince's eyes flicked over to him, but only very briefly before his gaze became distant again. At least he still answered to his name...

Merlin sighed, his arms crossed over his chest. And then smiled. "Oh no, is that a Chimaera outside attacking the villagers? It's going to kill them all!" he cried out urgently.

At hearing a few of those key words, Arthur's reaction was instantaneous.

"What?" he exclaimed as he sat bolt upright. Then he ran to the window. "Where? Where is it?" By the time he looked back questioningly, Merlin still hadn't managed to stifle his laugh. And judging from his glare, Arthur didn't share the amusement.

"You think this is funny?" he scolded. "Why don't you go out and clean the entire wing on your own, then proceed with the staircases all the way to the top of the tower and back down to the dungeons, to see if it's funny too?"

"Oh come on, I was just trying to get your attention..." Merlin minimised.

"Well now you have it. Get out," Arthur ordered coldly and returned to his seat.

Merlin knew it was no use insisting. Resigned, he picked up his tools and headed out, but paused at the door.

"Did the negotiations go _that_ bad?" he asked softly.

Arthur hesitated. "No, I guess you could even say they were very conclusive. There... shall be peace," he finished in a whisper.

"That... doesn't seem to make you happy," Merlin pointed out.

"Oh it does. It does..."

There was that absorbed and distant look again...

"Do you have anything on your mind?" Merlin asked earnestly.

Arthur shook his head. "No, I..." He paused briefly. "I agreed to something maybe a little hurriedly, and I'm only just starting to realise..." He paused again. "I don't know..."

"Is it about the negotiations?" Merlin queried.

"This is none of your concern, Merlin."

"You're absolutely right, Sire. I'll be on my way."

"Oh, all right! You'll find out soon enough, anyway..." Right after his sudden change of mind, Arthur fell silent again. His volatile attitude was really beginning to worry Merlin.

"I... think I... may be betrothed..." Arthur said slowly.

"Betrothed? Really?" Merlin exclaimed disbelievingly. "Why didn't you say so earlier instead of being so mysterious and brooding? Congratulations!" he concluded happily. Betrothed. Wow. He really didn't see that coming. He had always thought it would take those two years to figure things out between them. "But what do you mean that you _may _be betrothed? You're not sure?" he continued.

Arthur shrugged.

"How can you not be sure? Wasn't there some sort of proposal at some point?"

"I... didn't propose..."

"Oh, _she_ did?" Merlin said with amusement. "I'd never thought she'd be the kind to -" He stopped when he saw Arthur's look. Indeed, Gwen would never do that. "Wait, who are you betrothed to exactly?"

"I'm not sure about that either..."

"She's not a troll, is she?" Merlin teased, now convinced Arthur had decided to mock him as retaliation for his earlier joke.

"For all I know, she could be..."

Merlin's smile vanished. Arthur sounded way too serious and he could detect absolutely no teasing undertone. "Would you care to... expand?"

Arthur took a deep breath. "We were close to an agreement, but King Colgrin wanted a guarantee that we were as serious as we claimed to be. He suggested I marry his daughter as a concrete proof of a strong alliance between our Kingdoms."

Merlin was speechless. "His daughter?" he repeated.

"Princess Angharad, Colgrin's youngest child out of three daughters and two sons."

He couldn't believe it. "What is she like?" he asked casually, still trying to understand.

"I don't know," Arthur confessed, sounding slightly upset.

"Haven't you met her before?"

Arthur shook his head. "No, I haven't."

This was making no sense... "Then why would you marry her?"

"Peace with the Saxons, Merlin! Do you ever listen when I try to explain those things to you?" Arthur exploded. "Do you have any idea what a unique opportunity this is? I would be a fool not to seize it."

And we certainly wouldn't want that, Merlin thought ironically.

"Don't talk about this to anyone," Arthur suddenly added. "The agreement is still very fragile."

"What about Gwen?" Merlin asked tentatively.

"What about her?"

"You know..."

Arthur sighed as he looked away. "I'll talk to her. She'll understand," he finished in a whisper, all confidence gone from his voice.

Merlin wasn't so sure about that either. She _would_ understand, of course, but... He knew Gwen had allowed herself to consider that maybe, it _was_ possible. That perhaps, a maid and a Prince, some day, under some circumstances... He had better make sure he was there for her after those news.

What a waste, when Arthur and Gwen were only just beginning to get closer at last...

Especially considering how good they were for one another. Without knowing it, Gwen allowed Arthur to realise everyone didn't have an easy life, and compelled him to question and humble himself. He always made that sort of effort for her when he didn't always bother for Merlin. And all that made him a better man - and some day it would make him a better King. Meanwhile, Gwen was a strong, confident woman, but Arthur's showing interest in her boosted her self-esteem and gave her a better image of herself. When he looked at her, she wasn't "just a maid" any more.

Seeing them getting closer brought Merlin such joy, but now, with this coming along... Really, what a waste...

Merlin observed Arthur, who was back to his pensive attitude. "Don't you regret your decision?" he asked softly.

"No, this is the right choice," Arthur affirmed immediately. "For the Kingdom," he added. He sounded like he was trying to make his own mind at the same time. "But nothing is done yet. There is still a lot to discuss, and maybe Colgrin will realise _he_ made a mistake. A lot could happen in the next few days." He paused. "Do _you_ think I made a mistake?"

Merlin shrugged. "I'm hardly in any position to have a valuable opinion about this. A few years ago, I still thought the Saxons were a mountain range somewhere in the south."

His comment made Arthur smile.

"But if you really want to know what I think, I think it's just like you to throw away what's good in your life _for the Kingdom_."

Seeing Arthur fall silent again, his smile frozen and his gaze faraway, feeling the conversation was over, Merlin decided to leave at last.

Arthur probably thought he was being a hero there, Merlin thought while he walked down the hallway. But maybe he was right, maybe it would be good. _For the Kingdom_. Who was he to make that judgement, anyway?

As he was about to go around the corner, he heard the sound of a door opening. A look over his shoulder informed him that it was Morgana getting very quietly out of... the guest chambers.

The guest chambers... Wasn't King Colgrin accommodated there?

Morgana began to walk down the hallway in Merlin's direction, but froze as soon as she saw him. After a second of hesitation, she met up with him.

"Merlin," she greeted. "It seems we stumble upon each other a lot lately."

"I see you've met with King Colgrin?" Merlin remarked with a nod towards the guest chambers.

"I just came to pay my respects to our guest, as the King's ward," Morgana dismissed. "Are you spying on me?"

"Why would I be?"

"First I see you after talking to Uther last week, now after talking to Colgrin... This sounds like a lot of coincidences."

"Maybe, but I just happened to be there," he retorted, indicating the bucket he was still carrying.

Morgana sighed. "You're right, I'm sorry. I just keep having this strange feeling that I have some reason to resent you, but I have no idea what it could be..."

Merlin did. Did her unconscious remember how angry at him she'd been when discovering on her own he was a warlock, while she had forgotten all about it because of the strength of the spell she'd cast afterwards?

"I _did_ listen to your conversation with Uther," he admitted. "Not because I'm spying on you, but because I was worried. Did you come to discuss the same thing with Colgrin? To seek asylum for... gifted people?"

Morgana nodded. "You may not understand, but that would be such a great opportunity for people like me, who only wish to live in peace."

Colgrin sure sounded like a bringer of opportunities, these days, Merlin mused.

"Aren't you supposed to wait until the King introduces you, and to have his agreement before submitting any request?"

"Do you really think Uther would ever agree? From the little I've seen, Colgrin is much more understanding. If the only way to get things done is to bypass Uther's authority, then I will not hesitate a second."

Merlin remembered what he had heard the previous night at the sorcerers gathering, when Morgana had already mentioned her intention to talk to Colgrin. Had someone encouraged her to do so? The same someone who told her how to go to the gatherings?

"Morgana, I know this is none of my business but... Please be careful. Don't believe everything you're told."

* * *

Coming next on Sunday: Chapter 9 "Regrets"


	9. Chapter 9: Regrets

**Chapter 9: Regrets**

It took several days of work and meetings with Colgrin to settle all the details of the alliance between Camelot and Saxony. It included the military support against the Angles and the Jutes, of course, but also trade of various commodities – food, materials, metals...

It had taken a while to write down on paper all the terms of the treaty, with a particular attention to the phrasing. Uther and Colgrin had both made sure to validate every single word on a pile of parchments that was now as thick as a fist.

After several long days and a few short nights, Arthur signed the last piece of parchment and handed it to his father, who signed it too before passing it on to Colgrin.

Well, it was taking shape now. Those weren't just words in the wind any more, Arthur thought while he watched Colgrin sign the piece of parchment himself.

The Saxon stood up. "I will send a messenger right away to ask that my daughter and her household come here as soon as possible. If no trouble is encountered, they should arrive within ten days. I will see you in a few hours for the public announcement."

The public announcement of the betrothal of Prince Arthur of Camelot with Princess Angharad of Saxony... Colgrin had made very clear that the alliance would be final only once the wedding had been celebrated.

"In a few hours, after the announcement, it will be too late to turn back," Uther stated once Colgrin was gone. "If you have any regrets -"

"I have none. I'm very comfortable with my decision," Arthur affirmed.

"All right," Uther acquiesced. "I have to admit I had many doubts about all of this. But seeing the result," he continued with a nod towards the pile of parchments, "I can only recognise I was wrong. This alliance will bring more stability, more security, and peace. And none of this would have been possible without you. I'm very proud of you, Arthur."

He couldn't refrain an embarrassed smile. "Thank you, Sire."

"I shall not worry about the future of this Kingdom any more. I now have proof that you have the shoulders for it."

"Thanks," Arthur said again. He appreciated the praise, but it really wasn't necessary.

His father stood up. "I have a few orders to give for the announcement, summon the knights and the court. Besides, a month is a short time to prepare a wedding, we should get things started as early as today."

Arthur nodded and watched his father walk away in silence.

A month. In a month, he would be married. To a stranger.

Since the alliance wouldn't be valid until there was a wedding, Colgrin had urged that it was celebrated as soon as possible. His father had suggested to combine it with Autumn Feast, in a month, and all had agreed.

A month, he thought again. Thirty days, including barely twenty to make the acquaintance of his bride. How could you get to know someone in only twenty days?

He really had to talk to Gwen before she heard it from someone else, and before the announcement. With Colgrin in the castle, he knew there were a lot of rumours going on, some true, some completely unfounded, and maybe she had already heard whichever was the worst of them. But he had been so busy over the last few days that he hadn't had a second to himself, let alone a moment to speak with her. And he only had very little time left to do so.

Unfortunately, the next few hours flew by just as quickly as the last days, and when the time for the announcement came, he still hadn't had managed to see Gwen.

Before he knew it, he was standing at the entrance of the Great Hall, greeting Lords, Ladies and knights alike, thanking them for coming under so short notice. The Hall was now filled with the entire court of Camelot, but the one person he was nervously waiting for still wasn't there.

At last, he saw Morgana arriving, walking down the hallway followed by Gwen. He greeted Morgana with a brief nod, while Gwen gave him a quick smile as they walked past him. Arthur checked rapidly there was no one else in sight. This was his only chance.

He grabbed Gwen's wrist right before she entered the Great Hall, and pulled her back outside and towards him. "Guinevere, I need to speak with you," he said in a low voice.

She gave a worried look around. "Here? Now?"

"It can't wait," he stated, waving her to follow him away from the Great Hall's doors.

"Is there anything wrong?" she queried.

"In a few minutes, there is going to be an announcement."

"Yes, about the peace treaty with the Saxons, I heard," she said joyfully.

"An announcement about me," Arthur rectified. "I..."

He hadn't thought it through, he realised. All this time, and he still hadn't thought it through. How was he supposed to say it? Not bluntly, surely there had to be a better way. Besides, Gwen looked happy about the peace with the Saxons, and strangely it really didn't make things any easier.

"There were conditions to the terms of the peace treaty," he started over. "To ensure a lasting alliance."

"I'm... sure the King and you did your best, in the interest of everyone," she answered hesitantly, clearly lost about what he was getting at.

"What I'm trying to say is that King Colgrin offered -"

"My Lord, everyone has arrived, we're waiting for you."

Arthur looked past Gwen to Sir Leon, on the Great Hall's doorstep. "I'll be there in a minute," he replied on an irritated tone.

"The King has requested your presence," Sir Leon insisted.

"You shouldn't keep the King waiting," Gwen told Arthur. "I'll find out soon enough about this announcement, just like everyone else," she finished with a smile and headed into the Hall.

Resigned, he followed her and Sir Leon into the Great Hall and joined his father to stand at his right in front of the assembly, while Colgrin was at his left with one of his knights. Gaius was at the front of the crowd, on Arthur's right, with Merlin next to him, while Morgana was on the left side, with Gwen a few steps behind her.

When Gwen noticed Arhur's gaze, she smiled at him.

This felt wrong. This all felt so wrong.

He decided to focus his attention on the rest of the crowd while his father spoke up.

"My Lords, my Ladies, people of Camelot," Uther added for the benefit of the very few chosen villagers who had been allowed to attend from the back of the room. "Thank you all for coming today to listen to the outstanding news I am about to announce."

Arhur ventured another look towards Gwen, but she was listening attentively to the King, still smiling.

"As I'm sure you have all heard, King Colgrin of Saxony arrived in Camelot a few days ago in order to negotiate a peace treaty, thanks to Prince Arthur's intervention," his father continued.

Arthur detected a wave of global unspoken approval among the crowd.

"Those negotiations have been carried on with success, and I am glad to announce today that King Colgrin and I have agreed that there shall be peace between our Kingdoms."

The news were welcomed by a round of applause. Arthur's heart started to beat faster. He knew what was coming next. In an attempt not to look at Gwen again, his gaze fell on Merlin. It turned out his servant was looking at Gwen from the distance, with a concerned look on his face. Arthur swallowed uneasily.

"As a testimony of this new alliance, Prince Arthur is, as of today, betrothed to King Colgrin's daughter, Princess Angharad."

There was a new round of applause, but the reaction wasn't as immediate as when the King had announced peace. There were first dubious looks exchanged. Then a few words whispered to a neighbour. And only then did the applause come.

Maybe a few of those Lords had just realised they would have to find another prospect for their daughter, Arthur thought ironically. In any case, he was surprised to see such a mitigated reaction to the announcement of his betrothal to a Saxon Princess. Why would they care, as long as there was peace?

He allowed himself to look at Gwen once more: her smile had disappeared, but her face was impassible and she was applauding along with everyone else.

Uther went on with the date chosen for the celebration. Still no apparent reaction from Gwen. She briefly looked in his direction, but quickly looked away when their eyes met.

When his father's speech was over, she was among the first to leave, through a side door. Uther and Colgrin began to talk together, but Arthur managed to slip away behind her.

"Gwen! Guinevere!" he called.

She turned to face him. "Yes my Lord?"

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," was all he could say, but these few words could not convey a tenth of what he was feeling at that moment.

She shrugged with a sad smile. "I guess we've both always known it was likely to turn out this way. It's probably for the best that it does now."

"I wish... I wish I could -"

"Let's not dwell on this," she interrupted. "This is the King's command, it's no use wishing for anything else."

She thought his father had made the decision, he realised.

"I have a lot of work to do, I have to go. Good bye, Sire," she concluded with a bow and turned around.

As he watched her walk away, he couldn't find the strength to deny anything. He was disappointed. Disappointed by her placid attitude. Disappointed by his own cowardice.

While he returned to the Great Hall, he didn't see her look back at him, her eyes shining with tears, before continuing on her way.

* * *

Coming next: Chapter 10 "The Arrival"


	10. Chapter 10: The Arrival

**Chapter 10: The Arrival**

Merlin found Gwen in the castle's laundry room. A few other female servants were busy cleaning household linen, sweating in the heat and the steam, while Gwen was conscientiously folding a pile of white-clean sheets a few yards away.

"Do you need any help?" he offered.

"Don't you have chores of your own?"

"I'm done with them. And I haven't seen you in a while, I thought we could use a talk."

She shrugged. "As you wish."

"So, how are you doing, these days?" Merlin asked while picking up a sheet in the pile.

She sighed. "Why do you keep asking me this, lately? I'm fine."

Merlin decided to jump directly to the sensitive subject. "The Saxon delegation arrives later today."

"Yes, I heard. Arrangements have been made for diner, so I guessed they were expected some time this afternoon..." She paused, thoughtful. "The girls in the kitchens, they keep giggling about it," she finally said with irritation, obviously condemning this behaviour.

"About diner?"

"No, about the betrothal," Gwen rectified.

"Why?"

"Well, you know. It's a royal wedding," she explained with a shrug. "There's going to be a celebration, and food, and music, and prestigious guests... Everyone will get to dress up... They're enthusiastic, it's been a while since we had one of these. My father once told me about Uther's wedding with Igraine, apparently it was very joyful and quite memorable."

They kept working in silence, piling up the folded sheets.

"What do you think she will be like?" Merlin finally asked, knowing she would understand he was talking about Arthur's future bride. He wondered if such a direct approach was the right way to go.

"I don't know, and I honestly don't care," she replied sharply.

"Wouldn't you prefer to see Arthur betrothed to a hideous shrew?" he asked jokingly.

"No, I wish him the best," she assured.

Merlin raised an eyebrow.

"Although I wouldn't mind a boil or two," Gwen admitted.

She looked back at him, smiling, and they both burst out laughing.

Gwen's smile vanished slowly. "A one-to-one diner has been planned tonight for Arthur and Princess Angharad. To get to know each other better, I guess. I was supposed to be one of the girls waiting on them, but I asked to be replaced."

Merlin nodded with understanding. "Don't work yourself up about all of this. Keep in mind that it wasn't easy for Arthur to make that decision."

Gwen looked up at him brusquely.

"What?" he queried.

"Nothing, I just... I always assumed Uther had made that decision for him."

Was that bitterness in her voice?

The sound of a horn echoed from somewhere above, in the upper floors of the castle.

"Oh. This means the delegation has been spotted, they will be at the gates soon," Merlin explained. "I should go, I'm supposed to welcome them, take care of their horses..."

"Show them around, give them a tour of the castle, offer them to sit on the King's throne," Gwen added playfully.

Merlin smiled. "Exactly. Standard squire duty," he joked. "I'll see you later. Take care," he concluded, and left hurriedly.

When he arrived in the castle's courtyard, Arthur, his father and several knights were already there, along with King Colgrin and a few of his men. A couple of minutes after Merlin had joined the group, eight riders passed the gates, among which, unmistakable, was Princess Angharad.

Gwen was going to be disappointed. She was pretty. She had the same dark hair and eyes as her father, but with features almost as delicate as Morgana's.

King Colgrin helped her down her horse, while two other women dismounted, probably her maids.

"It is my pleasure to introduce my daughter, Princess Angharad, to you, King Uther, and to you, Prince Arthur," Colgrin declared very ceremoniously while his daughter bowed respectfully.

Angharad was clearly very nervous. She barely looked at her hosts in the eyes. During the entire introductions, she only uttered a few basic greetings.

"This young man," King Colgrin continued, indicating one of the male riders sporting Saxon colours while he dismounted as well, "is Peredur, one of the finest blades of his generation, if I may say so. He will be in charge of the Princess' security at all times."

"I believe Camelot's knights are fully qualified to ensure her safety," Uther contested.

"I have no doubt about it," Colgrin retorted, "but I will be more at ease knowing my daughter is looked after by someone I already know and trust."

Merlin guessed from Uther's upset look that this lack of confidence could be considered as an affront, but no one said anything.

He and two other servants saw themselves entrusted with the Saxon horses.

* * *

Arthur was sitting in front of Angharad on the other side of the diner table, an empty plate in front of him. She didn't seem at ease with the whole situation, or even with him. She systematically averted her eyes as soon as their gazes met.

As for Peredur, Angharad's personal bodyguard, he never left her side since their arrival. When he wasn't keeping an eye on the comings and goings of the maids, or checking the trays of food they carried, he stood immobile two steps behind the Princess. Arthur was under the impression the Saxon kept observing him with defiance, even though nothing on his face betrayed his thoughts. He was incredibly stoic.

Well. This diner was meant for him and Angharad to get to know one another, wasn't it? "So, how was your trip?" Arthur inquired out of the blue.

"Long, and tiring," Angharad answered simply.

They both fell silent, looking down to their plates.

"Do you have any... centres of interest?" Arthur asked after a while.

She hesitated for a few seconds. "I enjoy embroidery, dancing, and poetry..."

There was another uncomfortable lull after her answer.

"What about you?" she finally asked back.

"Oh, er... Hunting, sword practice, jousting..."

Another awkward silence settled while a maid brought the next course. Naturally, Peredur stopped her before she reached the table in order to examine the tray.

This was going to be a long evening...

During the next half hour, Arthur occasionally tried to sustain the conversation by asking some questions, but Angharad always gave short answers and didn't seem intent on making much efforts on her side. The silences that usually followed each sentence were so heavy he could hear himself chew. And he had never noticed those intricate patterns woven into the curtains, or the carvings in the table's legs...

When Arthur extended his hand towards a breadbasket on the other side of the table, admittedly a little energetically, he was surprised to see his wrist caught in mid-air by Peredur, quicker than lightning.

Arthur observed the way his own arm seemed to be aiming at Angharad, and glared at Peredur. "I think we can safely assume I do not intend to make an attempt on Princess Angharad's life using this piece of bread," he stated with irritation.

Peredur looked down to the piece of bread, then back to Arthur, before he reluctantly released his grip. He didn't apologise for his mistake or for his unsuitable gesture. Instead, he just moved back to his initial position in silence.

If until now Arthur had been willing to tolerate that man's smothering presence out of respect for a father's fears for his daughter's safety, this was going too far.

"Peredur, I think we can dispense with your services for tonight," he stated.

"My orders are very clear, I am to remain with the Princess."

"Well, I'm sure those orders can be adapted, since the Princess is clearly in no danger," Arthur assured.

"I'm afraid I take my orders from my King only," Peredur retorted coldly before adding a rather insolent sounding "my Lord".

Arthur didn't know whether he should be impressed or irritated by this boldness. It took either a lot of heart or a complete lack of wisdom to overstep one's rank repeatedly like this. But Peredur seemed absolutely aware of what he was doing... In any case, it was very clear why Colgrin trusted him so much. If he was as good with a sword as he was loyal to his King, he must be a redoubtable soldier.

The tension was so high it compelled Angharad to speak up. For the first time, Arthur heard the sound of her voice for more than a few syllables.

"Peredur, I believe you should leave us alone."

"My Lady," he contested, "your father ordered that I -"

"I will be fine," she insisted softly but firmly.

Arthur could read the internal debate in the Saxon's eyes as he looked at Angharad.

"Very well," Peredur eventually muttered with resignation. "I will be right outside."

Arthur watched him walk out of the room. Interesting. He wouldn't listen to him but he obeyed her.

Once he was gone, the atmosphere relaxed at last. Arthur and Angharad smiled weakly at each other.

"Is he always like this?" he asked.

Angharad shrugged. "He takes his responsibilities to heart."

They resumed eating peacefully, falling back into silence again.

"I'm sorry, I'm afraid I'm no good company, today," Angharad suddenly apologised after a while.

Arthur shrugged it off. "Don't worry, I can't say I am either," he admitted. He paused, trying to think of something else to say. "Your father might have mentioned it already, but the betrothal reception will be held in a few days," he finally informed her.

"I can't wait, I'm sure it's going to be marvellous," she answered, forcing a smile.

Well, judging from her enthusiasm, it seemed they had at least one thing in common, after all...

The meal finished in almost complete silence. They exchanged a few more words, but never quite managed to fully break the ice. Once they were done, Arthur escorted her back to her chambers, followed very closely by Peredur. When she was safely inside, the Saxon stood at attention in front of the door, apparently planning to keep watch all night.

"Do you ever sleep?" Arthur questioned.

Peredur remained mute, but stared back at him with what Arthur interpreted as a hint of disrespect in his eyes. He fought to keep it to himself; it would be a very ill-chosen time to provoke a diplomatic incident. But as far as he could tell, Peredur strongly disliked him. And as far as he could tell, it was reciprocal.

As soon as he had turned a corner, Arthur let go a long and tired sigh. This was arguably one of the most tedious diner he'd ever had the displeasure to take part in. He really needed to have a normal conversation with another human being before he turned mad.

Somehow, a few minutes later, he found himself knocking at Gwen's door in the dark, probably guided by his unconscious. She didn't manage to hide her surprise at seeing him when she opened.

"What are you doing here? It's very late," she pointed out.

"Can I get in?"

She gave a quick look down the empty streets. "I don't think it would be a good idea."

"It will only take a few minutes," he insisted.

She sighed. "You're getting married in a couple of weeks, don't you think this would be slightly inappropriate?"

"I just want to talk, I had a really bad day."

"Well we all have bad days every once in a while," she answered coldly. "Good night, Sire."

After those last words, she slammed the door in his face.

* * *

Coming next: Chapter 11 "The Betrothal Reception"


	11. Chapter 11: The Betrothal Reception

**Chapter 11: The Betrothal Reception**

Merlin roamed in the reception hall, carrying a tray and offering drinks to the guests.

Everything was going so fast, while it still felt like they had met with Colgrin on that hill only the day before... Merlin couldn't believe the betrothal had already been celebrated, and that the wedding was now barely two weeks away. The whole castle and city were buzzing with activity, making sure everything would be ready in time for Autumn Feast.

As for today, after a rather quick but formal betrothal in front of the court, Arthur, Angharad and their fathers were entertaining their guests, offering them a sumptuous buffet while some musicians played the lyre, the flute and the zither in a corner. If this was meant as a foretaste of what was to come for the wedding itself, it was probably going to be quite memorable.

Guest after guest, Merlin soon found himself close to the hosts.

Morgana was in the middle of what seemed to be a passionate conversation with Angharad, while Peredur was standing next to them. Merlin was under the impression the young Saxon was never very far from the Princess, always checking their surroundings with a slightly paranoid look. The very few times Arthur had mentioned him to Merlin, the nicest word he'd used to describe Peredur was 'intrusive'. Apparently, having to make the right impression in front of Angharad and Colgrin at all times was already a strain, but having to put up with the bodyguard's constant presence made it worse.

He offered a cup to Peredur, who refused with a shake of the head. Then he moved to Morgana and Angharad, who both took one. The two ladies seemed to be on quite good terms. Angharad was even genuinely smiling, while the rare times Merlin had crossed her path, she never seemed very happy.

And Morgana seemed to have made a new friend too. Merlin knew she rarely associated with other ladies of the court, but who could blame her? Most of the ladies of the court were much older and, quite frankly, absolutely uninteresting. It must be great for Morgana to find another young woman like her she could relate to.

Merlin continued on his way until he was next to the hosts. Uther, Colgrin and Arthur were busy in a conversation. He lifted his tray towards them, but they seemed too concentrated to pay any attention to him. When he listened discreetly to what they were saying, he heard words like defence, troops and barbarians. It sounded serious, he had better not disturb them, he decided, and walked away.

Gaius caught up with him and took the last cup on his tray. "Ah, Merlin. I trust that when you're done working here, you'll return to the laboratory and to the task you left unfinished? Three days ago?" he reminded reproachfully.

"Oh, I don't know, there are so many things to do around here, because of the preparations," Merlin said, hoping to get out of that tedious chore he had conscientiously forgotten about.

"Hmm," Gaius muttered.

"So, what are your thoughts on our guests?" Merlin asked.

"I'm not sure yet," Gaius answered. "I took part to a few of the councils between Uther and Colgrin, and I find King Colgrin more accommodating than I expected, but also a little too... hurried. I wonder if it hides something..."

"What do you mean?"

Gaius hesitated. "I personally see no real need to rush this union... We're talking about Kings here, those are all people of their word. Everyone could have agreed to a tacit truce until this marriage was celebrated in a year, maybe two."

"From what I heard, Colgrin wasn't open to many options..."

"Well if I wanted to be critical, I'd say Colgrin doesn't want to give Uther and Arthur enough time to change their minds... But let's not talk about this," Gaius added with a worried look around. "And maybe I'm wrong. Maybe the time for peace with the Saxons has truly come... All of this is good for the people, they forget about their personal problems to be happy for the bride and groom..."

Merlin didn't want Gaius to drop the subject so easily, sensing there was something he wasn't telling him. "Why would Uther and Arthur want to change their mind? Is there anything wrong with Angharad?"

Gaius seemed surprised by this question. "Oh no, Angharad seems to be a nice young woman, a little shy and introverted maybe, but otherwise balanced and sound. Arthur should consider himself rather lucky. As far as arranged marriages go, I've seen much worse."

"Then what's wrong about the marriage?"

Gaius sighed. "It's not just a marriage, it's... a lifetime commitment between two Kingdoms. I don't expect you to understand the implications, but maybe Colgrin would rather rush things than let anyone find out the dirt he hid under the carpet..." Gaius paused. "Now, talking about hiding the dirt under the carpet..."

"Look at that, my tray is empty!" Merlin exclaimed hurriedly.

"Merlin..."

"I can't let all these guests get thirsty, can I?" he stated while slipping away swiftly.

He joined Gwen, who was arranging food at one of the tables, and started to load his tray with filled cups.

"Hey Gwen. Nice evening. How are things going for you?"

She sighed. "Merlin, you really have to stop asking me this question... I told you already, I'm fine. Everyone is," she added, and picked up a cup.

"Hey, this is meant for the guests," Merlin protested, but Gwen ignored him. After a second of hesitation, he took a drink himself – well, who cared, anyway. "Gwen, I'm serious, you're obviously upset," he insisted, and paused. "People like them, they don't always do what they want, and we have to accept it," he finally stated.

"I know... Look, I had prepared for this sort of eventuality. I've always known this might happen. But _he_ chose to marry her, right?"

Merlin nodded without a word. He didn't want to interrupt her. Judging from the sound of her voice, it felt like something that had been bottled up for a while was finally getting released.

"Right. _He_ chose to marry her. Not Uther, _he_. And then a few days ago, he comes to my house, at night, and says he wants to talk to me!"

"So?"

"Merlin, he's betrothed! He's getting married in ten days, and nothing is going to change that!" she exclaimed. "So why does he come talk to me? What does he expect from me? That I become some sort of... royal mistress? I have my pride."

Merlin choked on his drink. "I'm... sure that's not what he had in mind..."

"And come on, look at her..." Gwen continued, observing Angharad. "Why would anyone give me a second look after seeing her...?"

"Gwen, don't say that, this is ridiculous!"

"Why would anyone want to be friends with me when they can be friends with her instead?"

Merlin frowned. He followed Gwen's gaze, and saw Morgana and Angharad, talking, laughing together.

This was no longer about Arthur, he realised. Gwen was of course hurt because of the upcoming wedding. But she was also jealous of the budding friendship between Morgana and Angharad.

"Gwen, there's no -"

"I have to go, I have... work over there," Gwen suddenly said hurriedly before leaving him.

Merlin turned round when he heard a sigh behind him, and saw Arthur heading towards him but watching Gwen walk away with a disappointed look on his face.

"I had only doubts, but now I'm certain of it. She's avoiding me," Arthur stated sadly. "Every time I meet her in a hallway, she just walks past me without a single look..."

"She pretends to be fine with what's going on, but we both know she's not," Merlin confirmed.

"I saw the two of you talking, she seemed quite upset," Arthur pointed out. "I keep... trying to talk to her, hoping to find the right words, but she won't let me."

"Arthur, you will not believe this!" Morgana shouted out as she suddenly joined them.

Arthur sighed. "Believe what, Morgana?"

"I was just talking with Angharad. Did you know that she practised magic? Nothing serious though, she says she has no real talent for it. But I can't wait to see Uther's face when he finds out he's going to have such a gifted daughter-in-law!" she exclaimed with a short laugh.

Arthur was glaring at her. "What are you trying to do, Morgana? We're hoping to build an alliance through this marriage, do you want to spoil everything? Because that's all you'll manage to do by spreading this sort of rumour."

"No, of course not! I love your fiancée!" she declared joyfully with a quick pat on Arthur's shoulder, then turned on her heels.

"Well at least one of us does..." Arthur muttered once she was gone.

Merlin was growing worried about Morgana. She seemed to have no discussion topic other than magic. Every time she spoke, it was about magic. Every time she had a demand, it was about magic. She was like obsessed with it. She had to be more careful than that, because otherwise it would get her into trouble.

"Merlin, about Gwen..." Arthur picked up the conversation right where he had left it. "This is killing me," he confessed. "She's hurting, and it's my fault, and there's nothing I can do. But she's listening to you. Will you talk to her on my behalf?"

Merlin shook his head. "It's not my place. Just give her more time," he suggested, "she'll come to terms with it, eventually."

Arthur turned a little away from him when his father cleared his throat, apparently about to make an announcement.

"Ah, at last, he's going to announce it... I've pushed for this, you know?" Arthur told him. "At least _this_ should take my mind off all these concerns, I'm really looking forward to it..."

"My Lords, my Ladies," Uther began loud and clear to get everyone's attention. "As part of the celebrations of the betrothal between Prince Arthur and Princess Angharad, we have decided to hold a sword tournament. The contestants will be the best swordsmen from both Camelot and Saxony, which will give them an opportunity to measure themselves against each other in good comradeship. This tournament will follow the Knights Code of Chivalry and there shall be no fight to the death."

"So looking forward to it..." Arthur repeated in a whisper.

From the corner of his eyes, Merlin noticed Arthur was looking towards Peredur with a satisfied smile. Peredur would probably be one of the Saxons contestants, he assumed, and Arthur was apparently quite eager to settle a few things with him...

* * *

Coming next: Chapter 12 "The Tournament, part 1"


	12. Chapter 12: The Tournament, part 1

**Chapter 12: The Tournament (part 1)**

His thoughts were clear, void of any distraction, his senses focused. His breastplate rose and fell with his calm and regular breathing. Sweaty strands of hair stuck to his forehead under his helmet, heated by a mercilessly hot sun.

He saw a fail in his opponent's defensive position. Instantly, his clammy hands tightened more strongly around his sword. The gravel crunched under his feet when he adjusted his stance. His blade hit his opponent's flank with a thud. He watched the other knight fall to the ground, still concentrated, ready to give another blow. The knight remained down, but slightly lifted his right hand to signal his withdrawal.

The crowd's acclamations for his victory brought Arthur back to his surroundings: he was in the middle of the arena, and he had just won a duel against one of the Saxon contestants.

He removed his helmet and helped his still dazed opponent stand up. Then, he waved quickly to the crowd and walked out of the arena to return to his tent.

Merlin followed him inside and rid him of his helmet and sword before proceeding to help him remove his armour.

"You seem to be doing fine," Merlin commented while removing his wrist protections.

"A little too fine," Arthur answered. "This is too easy, there is no challenge."

"Are the Saxon knights that terrible soldiers?"

"No, they're good but..." Arthur sighed. "Colgrin came to Camelot with a delegation, not with his best champions."

"I hear Peredur is doing quite well."

"That's what I heard too. Hurry up a little, will you? I'd like to see his fight against Sir Leon before it's over."

"You'll be up against the winner of that duel for the finals, do you really think he can beat Sir Leon?"

"Are you done?" Arthur asked impatiently, ignoring his question.

"Yes," Merlin confirmed while removing the last piece of armour, "I am done."

Arthur left Merlin behind and hurried outside to return to the arena. The fight had already begun when he arrived. He quickly found himself a nice vantage point to observe and study his next opponent's techniques.

Peredur was really good, and without doubt the best in the entire Saxon delegation. Colgrin probably had exaggerated less than he'd thought by calling him one of the finest blades of his generation.

He was very quick, and equally precise, which allowed him to take to his advantage every single fail left open by Leon – and there weren't many. However, he lacked a little in pure physical strength. In case of a direct confrontation against Leon, he would lose. But he had youth and vivacity with him, while Leon had the experience.

To any of the commoners watching the duel, it probably seemed very balanced. But to the trained eye, Peredur clearly had the upper hand. And Arthur knew Leon well enough to be able to tell that he, too, knew it, and was only delaying the inevitable. Leon was breathing heavily and always stood in a defensive position, while Peredur seemed as fresh as if they'd just started and constantly maintained an offensive attitude. It was only a matter of time.

Soon enough, just like Arthur had predicted, Peredur hit Leon with a final blow that gave him no other choice than to withdraw.

A minute later, Leon left the arena while Peredur bowed in front of his King – who was smiling broadly, with pride. Leon immediately headed towards Arthur with a weary look.

"I'm sorry Sire. I did my best, but Peredur is quite a challenge."

"I sure hope so..." Arthur said, eager to encounter some opposition in this tournament. "There's nothing to apologise for, Sir Leon. You fought with honour."

Leon nodded dubiously. "If it can be any help to you, I noted Peredur always -"

"Thank you, Sir Leon, but that won't be necessary," Arthur interrupted, refusing to hear the piece of advice. It would be a fair fight. And he couldn't wait...

"As you wish. My Lord," Sir Leon said with a quick bow and took his leave.

Peredur soon left the arena as well, and judging from the way he looked at Arthur with a slightly satisfied smile when he walked past him, he was as eager as Arthur was.

Arthur's gaze wandered to the royal gallery. His father and King Colgrin were sitting side by side at the high seats, watching the festivities. Close to them, Morgana and Angharad were sitting and talking, apparently enjoying themselves.

The wedding was only four days away, but he and Angharad still hadn't managed to connect, so it was nice to see her at least befriend someone.

When his gaze finally fell on Gwen, his heart dropped. She had a distant, absent look. Almost sad. A little forlorn even, which contrasted greatly with Morgana's and Angharad's joyful attitude. She seemed so lonely... The only time he'd seen her like this was after her father's death. But this time, it was _his_ fault.

"Do you need me to do anything, Sire?"

Arthur turned to Merlin who had just joined him. "No, I'll... go rest a little until the finals. Just come for the preparation fifteen minutes before."

* * *

Merlin watched Arthur return to his tent. He had noticed his worried look towards Gwen, quite rightly. If until recently she'd seemed mostly upset, the last few days she had started looking sad instead.

Gwen sighed when she saw him approaching. "Before you ask, Merlin, I'm fine."

"Stop saying you're fine. You're not," he objected.

Gwen remained silent for a few seconds. "All right, I'm not fine," she capitulated. "It's just... This is all going so fast... A few weeks ago, I still had a lot to hope for, but today... I feel like I lost everything."

"That sounds a little harsh," Merlin pointed out. "Arthur may be getting married, but you still -"

"It's not just about the wedding," Gwen interrupted. "I..." She suddenly fell silent, obviously trying to find the right words. "My father dreamt of a better life for me. That's why he fought so hard to get me this position as Morgana's maid. He was convinced it would help me get somewhere. And I suppose it did. For a few years, I've been..."

"Her friend and confident?" Merlin supplied.

"Something like that, I hope," Gwen said with a shrug. "But these days, Morgana is spending most of her time with Angharad, and she brought her own maids who barely ever leave her side. Morgana almost never asks for me any more..."

"You're afraid she's going to dismiss you?"

"I'm dispensable. And she's made a new friend now," she said with a hint of bitterness in her voice.

"Don't say that. You'll always be her friend!"

"I'm not so sure about that... Merlin, she's changed," Gwen stated gravely.

"Changed how?"

"I don't know, she's different. The way she talks to me, to the people around her... And she's started to lock things up. She never did that before, now she's very careful to always keep the key with her. And I'm pretty sure she regularly leaves the castle at night. Several times I found muddy shoes in her room early in the morning, and I know I would never have let them like that the previous evening."

Merlin guessed Morgana was probably hiding the magic ingredients she used for the potions, and left at night for the sorcerers' gatherings. But otherwise, had her behaviour really changed, or was she just neglecting Gwen because of her new apparent obsession with magic? "You shouldn't worry so much. She has found a few new distractions, but soon she'll remember what a good friend you are."

Gwen shrugged, obviously not convinced by his argument. "And... I don't like to admit it, but you're right, there's the wedding too. But that's the way things go. I guess everything is as it should be, everyone mingling with people of their own rank," she finished on a fatalist tone.

Merlin chose to stay silent. He didn't know what to say to cheer her up. He, too, had noticed the same with Arthur, who had been spending much more time with his father, King Colgrin, and various advisers.

"I have a cousin who lives on the coast," Gwen suddenly said on a casual tone. "After my father died, she offered that I come there to live with her and her family."

Merlin turned to her sharply. "Are you planning to leave?"

"Merlin, I don't know if I can stand to watch this wedding," she said with distress.

"Gwen, don't do that."

"I haven't decided yet. But I wanted someone to know I was thinking about it. I don't have that many friends left around here."

Merlin felt a twinge of sadness at hearing her sorrow. "You know I'll always be here, right?"

She remained silent. He wished he knew how to convince her to stay, but in the end, it would be up to her and her only to make that decision.

* * *

Coming next: The Tournament, part 2!


	13. Chapter 13: The Tournament, part 2

**Chapter 13: The Tournament (part 2)**

Arthur observed Merlin as he helped him put on his armour. He had maintained a complete silence ever since he had returned, which was quite unusual of him. Under other circumstances, he may have asked why, but he didn't have time to wonder about it: he had a tournament to win.

Once he was done, Merlin gave him a quick friendly nod. "Good luck."

"This has nothing to do with luck," Arthur retorted while adjusting the position of one of the pieces of armour.

"Well, good... demonstration of your strength and valour, then?" Merlin teased, but thought better of it as soon as he saw Arthur's scolding face. "Right... Before a fight, never a good time to joke... I keep forgetting that..."

Fully equipped, Arthur left his tent and walked towards the arena. Peredur was already there, waiting. The Saxon barely looked at him when he saw him approaching. He seemed to be deep in concentration.

When they both entered the arena, Uther stood up.

"My Lords, my Ladies," the King began in a loud and clear voice. "I give you today your champions, who both passed all the previous rounds successfully. Prince Arthur will represent Camelot in my name, and Peredur will represent Saxony in the name of King Colgrin. I would like to remind everyone that this fight will follow the rules described by the Knights Code of Chivalry: no deadly wound, no blow to an unarmed opponent, no foul behaviour. This may be a fight, we're celebrating the new friendship between our Kingdoms. Therefore, this shall be a fair and sporting encounter." He paused. "Gentlemen, you may begin," he finally invited.

Arthur took his position, as did Peredur. At first, they observed each other from afar. But Arthur knew that if he wanted to take the advantage early on, he had to attack him straight, in a frontal confrontation.

He marched towards him, and even if the first few blows were blocked, he managed to make Peredur move back. Hit after hit, he took more and more confidence. Maybe a little too much. He realised his mistake a second too late, late enough for Peredur to notice it as well. The Saxon threw his sword towards his neck in a swift swing, but Arthur had anticipated the movement and managed to dodge it.

Taking advantage of his slight loss of balance, Peredur crouched and tackled him at ankle level. Arthur fell on his back in the clashing noise of his armour, but immediately rolled on his side, just in time to avoid the Saxon's blade crashing on the ground two inches behind him.  
Peredur _really_ was quick.

Arthur stood up right away to resume the assault. Peredur was clearly surprised by his reactivity, he didn't manage to stand his ground. Their swords clung together several times while the Saxon struggled to resist, until Arthur finally hit him successfully on the left shoulder. Unbalanced, Peredur took a few quick steps away to buy himself enough time to regain his footing.

One all, Arthur thought as they observed each other again, before the fight resumed with renewed vigour.

Technically, Peredur was very nearly faultless, forcing Arthur to demonstrate the same excellence himself. The rare times the Saxon made mistakes in his position or stance, he usually made up for it with his rapidity.

Both of them managed to successfully strike the other several times. Arthur had unintentionally bitten his lip under the impact allowed by a failed counter-attack, and he could feel the drops of blood dripping down his chin. As for Peredur, he limped a little since he hurt his left ankle in a bad fall, but it didn't seem to hinder his movements.

Arthur couldn't find any decisive flaw. He had to wear him out, push him to make more mistakes. It may not be a glorious way to win, it might be the only way.

But even with this approach, it didn't work. All his attempts only tired him a little more while Peredur didn't show any sign of weakness - except he held his sword a little lower than at the beginning of the fight. Fatigue was beginning to take its toll on him; his arms were tense, his legs heavy. It was slowing him down.

Droplets of sweat rolled down his forehead and into his eyes. The dried blood at the corner of his lips made his skin feel tight. The sun, ahead of him, was still high enough in the sky to blind him momentarily. He saw Peredur's attack split seconds too late to prevent it, just enough to limit the damage by bracing himself, but it threw him off.

While Peredur prepared his next blow, Arthur noticed him casting a brief look towards the royal gallery before concentrating on his action again.

Arthur was still slightly unsteady, his opponent had the upper hand. If he couldn't stop this, the fight would be lost. He attempted a last resort counter-attack, hoping to at least block the sword long enough to escape the assault. But then, almost miraculously, Peredur's blade shifted one inch to the left, allowing Arthur's to strike him at full speed and strength. The Saxon fell heavily to the ground, stunned by this blow, while Arthur positioned the tip of his blade straight to his opponent's neck.

That was it, he had won.

Still surprised by this turn of events, Arthur removed his helmet, took a few deep breaths, and watched as Peredur stood up on his own and left in an obvious refusal to shake hands with him. He waited patiently while the crowd cheered his victory and his father announced the tournament's winner, but couldn't savour the moment. As soon as courtesy allowed it, he left the arena and stuffed his helmet and sword into Merlin's arms.

"Hey, where are you going?"

He ignored his manservant's call and headed directly into Peredur's tent, where the latter had already begun to remove his armour.

"Why did you let me win?" Arthur demanded, furious.

Peredur remained silent, completely ignoring him, which only fuelled Arthur's anger even more.

"You had the opportunity to take me down, why didn't you take it?" he insisted.

Still no answer. Arthur was beginning to regret leaving his sword with Merlin.

"You looked towards the gallery, and then you gave up," he accused. "Did your King order you to let me win? Are you so loyal to him that you would give up your pride to please him?"

"No," Peredur finally answered between gritted teeth. "I received no order."

"Don't you Saxon knights have any dignity or honour?"

Peredur snorted and faced him at last, removing his last piece of armour. "I wouldn't know. I have no noble blood, I'm not a knight," he stated coldly with what sounded like resentment in his voice.

"Does King Colgrin know that?" Arthur exclaimed, outraged by this confession.

"Why wouldn't he?"

"I doubt he'd entrust his own daughter's life to a _peasant_."

"Well, he did," Peredur spat as he glared at him, and after a few seconds made to leave, but Arthur stepped in his way and blocked his chest with his arm.

"Why did you let me win?" he asked again. "You were as eager to fight as I was, so there has to be a reason," he continued, resolute to get to the bottom of this.

"Why do you care? You won. You're the tournament's champion, you will get all the recognition," Peredur said with a shrug. "Even if we both know where we stand," he added with a smirk.

Arthur grabbed the Saxon's collar. "Why did you let me win?" he repeated menacingly in his face, articulating each word slowly, his anger rising every time he reiterated his question.

Peredur smiled suddenly. "I thought the Princess might not want to see her future husband beaten by a _peasant_," he declared and freed himself from his grip. Then, he headed out.

Arthur was infuriated. Was he making fun of him? He hailed the Saxon before he was out: "Next time, fight for real."

Peredur paused on the doorstep, and answered without looking back: "Next time, you won't manage to get back on your feet." And with those words, he left.

Arthur was divided between an urge to knock him down violently and being impressed by his behaviour. He couldn't remember the last time someone had had the nerve to talk back to him like that or had been so daringly willing to fight him regardless of who he was. Peredur seemed to be having so much fun provoking him like this. Even Merlin knew better than to go that far.

And maybe Arthur was insane, but deep down, he liked that attitude. It was refreshing, and it was stimulating. He would have to train hard to deserve his victory at their next confrontation.  
He smiled involuntarily. He couldn't wait.

* * *

A/N: Coming next: Chapter 14 "The Warning".

By the way, the offer I made a few weeks ago still stands: more reviews = 2 chapters posted instead of one!


	14. Chapter 14: The Warning

**Chapter 14: The Warning**

The castle was crowded with eminent guests coming from all over the Kingdom. Uther had offered to accommodate the most prestigious of them. As a result, all of the castle's rooms were full, and just like all the other servants, Merlin kept running from pillar to post to look after the guests, busy trying to please every single one of them. And they were a demanding lot, used to attentions and considerations.

The wedding was to be celebrated the next day, and Merlin surprised himself by looking forward to it. He couldn't wait for all of this to be over at last so he could resume his usual activities and schedule. He was tired of all these people who thought he had nothing better to do than to satisfy each of their eccentric requests – he usually had more than enough with only one of those.

However, he had been so swamped with work over the last few days that he hadn't even managed to see Gwen since the tournament. She, too, was extremely busy, but he had hoped to find a moment to talk to her again, calmly, about how she considered leaving. He didn't want her to make that decision too hurriedly, while in a highly emotional state.

Late that day, after nightfall, Merlin returned to the laboratory at last, exhausted. Gaius seemed to be expecting him.

"Ah, Merlin, there you are. You have a visitor," his tutor stated.

A visitor? Merlin wondered. He eventually noticed a young man sitting in a corner, standing up at Gaius' announcement, and recognised him immediately. It was Elias, that other warlock.

Right, the sorcerers' gatherings... He had been so busy it had completely slipped his mind...

"I will leave you two alone, I have a few patients to see," Gaius announced before walking out.

"So, Elias, what's going on?" Merlin asked, a little anxious. This wasn't a courtesy visit. His being there couldn't mean any good.

"You asked me to notify you if I noticed anything unusual at the gatherings," Elias reminded.

"Indeed. Did anything happen?"

"Well, recently, the frequency of the gatherings has increased," Elias informed him. "A lot. There's one nearly every two days. There's even one as we speak while there was already one yesterday..."

"I suppose that's rather unusual..." Merlin guessed. He had only been to two of them, he had no idea how often they usually occurred.

"Until now it's always been at best a couple of times a month. This... This isn't normal. At all. I would never have bothered going to all of them if you hadn't requested that I keep you informed, there are too many."

"How are the dates of the gatherings decided?"

"They're not. I mean, anyone can decide. Whoever knows the correct potion or spell can summon a gathering. And before you ask, I don't know it."

Anyone... Then if there were that many gatherings these days, it meant _someone_ wanted them... But why? Why would anyone want to summon gathering after gathering? He suddenly remembered what he had overheard at that first gathering he'd went to: someone had talked of taking advantage of a commotion to kill the King. Did someone plan to use the wedding's celebration the next day as a distraction while preparing an attack?

"Did you notice anything _during_ the gatherings?" Merlin queried. "Did you hear something about some plan of action, maybe someone mentioning tomorrow's wedding?"

"Well, actually that's why I came..." Elias answered. "I don't know about the wedding, but there's a group of five sorcerers, always the same, who get together every time, at every gathering. I thought that was odd, so I tried to join them a couple of times, to see what they were talking about, but they didn't let me. That's what set me thinking. I suppose that's the sort of thing you wanted me to tell you about, especially since one of them is the Lady Morgana."

"Morgana?" Merlin repeated with incredulity.

Elias nodded.

Morgana. It was already worrying enough to know she went to those gatherings - who had taught her how? But the fact she joined every other day with the same four sorcerers raised even more questions. Why? Were they the same he had heard talk about killing the King? What were those four planning exactly, and what was Morgana doing with them? Was she actively scheming with them or were they just manipulating her to get fresh information from the castle?

Considering Morgana's history and her public disapproval of Uther's politics regarding magic, he honestly couldn't tell.

"Look, now I've told you about all this, I consider I've done my share," Elias stated. "I don't intend to go back there again, I don't want to get any more involved in this, it doesn't sound good."

Indeed, it didn't... "It's all right, I understand," Merlin replied absent-mindedly. He had to talk to Morgana.

When his gaze fell on Elias again, he suddenly noticed his expectant look.

"Is there... anything else?"

"Well, I don't know how to put it but..." the other sorcerer hesitated. "Livia mentioned you had a magic book, with plenty of rare spells she had never heard about... So I wondered... I mean, since I've helped you out, I thought maybe I could... I don't know, have a look?"

Merlin remembered that Livia, Elias' cousin, had browsed his magic book without his authorisation when left alone in his room. "No."

"Come on, don't keep it to yourself!" Elias protested. "Spread the knowledge! Only a few minutes, just a quick look!"

"I said no," Merlin repeated firmly. There were dangerous things in this book, harmful spells. He didn't want to spread _that_ knowledge.

"All right," Elias gave up with disappointment. "Well, good bye."

As soon as the other warlock had left, Merlin hurried to the Royal chambers' floor in the south wing. He would talk to Morgana, give her a chance to explain herself. He would tell her about him and his secret if he had to, but he _would_ get to the bottom of this.

He knocked on her door. "My Lady?" No answer. When he was about to knock again, it suddenly hit him: there was another gathering that night. She was away.

Should he seize this opportunity to check by himself? Gwen had mentioned Morgana was hiding things and locking them up, and now that he had heard Elias, he wondered if she was hiding more than he'd thought, more than just ingredients to prepare what she needed to go to the gatherings... He definitely had to try to learn more, and if something was going to happen the next day, could he wait any longer?

Setting aside his misgivings, he pushed the door open and closed it quietly behind him. He gave a quick look around the room: it was bathing in darkness, lit only by the light of a waning crescent moon. The bed was empty and had clearly not been slept in.

"_Ligbryne Leohtisern_," he muttered as he extended his hand towards a candle on the night table, which instantly lit up.

Instinctively, he headed for the chest of drawers, the only piece of furniture in the room that could be locked. He tested the first from the top: it was filled with hairdressing accessories. He proceeded with the second one, but was unable to open it.

He took a deep breath. "_Ontynan Ciest_," he whispered and, with a mix of dread and impatience, pulled on the drawer's handle slowly. And found them.

Ingredients, as he had guessed. On one side, he immediately recognised those needed to go to the gatherings, grouped together. But on the other side, there were others. Other ingredients, accompanied by a piece of paper and a spell written on it. His heart beat a little faster. He hoped it wasn't what he thought it was. He hoped, from the bottom of his heart, that it wasn't what one needed to _summon_ a gathering...

But as he read the spell in silence, he identified two of the words, used in other spells he knew. One meant _peers_, and one meant _calling_.

He took the time to memorise the spell and the list of ingredients before closing and then locking the drawer with magic again.

"_Blawan Leohtisern_", he said without even thinking about it, and the candlelight went out.

Merlin was thoroughly confused. First he found out Morgana went to sorcerers' gatherings, moreover every couple of days, and now she could very likely be the one to organise them... He'd check the spell later, but if he was right... What was going on? What was she doing? Was she the one at the origin of the rumours of a plot against the King's life?

He knew he shouldn't jump to conclusions, but...

He couldn't keep this to himself, he concluded while he left Morgana's chambers. He had to warn Arthur that something was in the making. Maybe not tell him straight out about Morgana and her possible involvement until he had a chance to sort this out directly with her, but at least warn him, put him on his guard.

He walked down the corridor hurriedly. "My Lord?" he called as he knocked on Arthur's door, but got no answer. "My Lord," he repeated, knocking more insistently, but still nothing. Not caring about the likely reprimand for his intrusion, he opened the door and walked in.  
The room was empty and the bed untouched.

Unbelievable. He was getting married the next day, and he still hadn't returned to his chambers at this hour of night?

Merlin sighed, and decided to leave the matter be for the time being. He would certainly find a moment to talk with Arthur in the morning, when helping him prepare for the wedding. And in any case, _he_ would remain vigilant during the ceremony...

* * *

Author's note: There has been more reviews than usual, so as promised, here is a second chapter! Keep the reviews coming! :-D


	15. Chapter 15: The Common Point

**Chapter 15: The Common Point**

Arthur laid his elbows on the wall and let go a long sigh as he gazed down to the city below. He had used as a pretext a security review to tour the battlements. He had talked with the guards, checked everything was as it should be, and was now on top of the tower, with nothing else to do next. But he didn't want to return to his chambers. He didn't want to go to sleep. He didn't want to do anything that would bring him to the next day any faster.

He couldn't say he had made this decision without full knowledge though. No one had forced his hand. He knew what he was doing and why he was doing it from the start. It was a choice of reason. This wasn't a perfect world. Of course he had regrets and guilt, but in truth, was any of this really that big a sacrifice when it would bring peace with the Saxons?

He gave a last look to Camelot in the moonlight before heading back to the staircase. It was late, he should get some rest, he decided. After all, his wedding _was_ the next day, he should try to look fresh – enthusiastic was another issue.

He reached the Royal wing half-heartedly and headed for his chambers. But in the middle of the corridor, he froze suddenly. Unusual noises. What was that? he wondered. Voices, it seemed. Angry voices. He took a few steps back, and pricked up his ears. Yes, it came from Angharad's chambers.

His blood ran cold when he realised: where was Peredur, he who had sworn to protect the Princess? He who would keep guard night and day without complaining?

Instinctively, he unsheathed a dagger at his belt and stepped closer to the door. Apart from Peredur's absence, nothing was amiss, there was no sign of a struggle. He walked closer yet. There was definitely at least a man's voice, upset, maybe even menacing, but Arthur was unable to tell what he was saying.

Arthur tightened his grip on his dagger and knocked on the door firmly with his free hand. "My Lady, is everything all right?"

All voices instantly stopped, but he didn't get any answer. He didn't need any other clue to know something was gravely wrong.

He opened the door brusquely with his shoulder and took in the situation in a half second. Angharad, in tears, staring at him with dazed eyes. Peredur, gripping Angharad's wrist as if trying to stop her from escaping.

Peredur.

Arthur immediately jumped on the Saxon, forcing him to release Angharad, and slammed him against the wall violently. "How dare you lay your hand on a woman, you coward!" he exclaimed, outraged, while his blade found Peredur's jugular.

"I would never harm her!"

"Oh you'd better shut up or I swear I slit your throat right now!" Arthur warned.

"NO!" Angharad suddenly cried out. "Please, no, I beg you..." she pleaded, tears still rolling down her cheeks. "Please..." she repeated while grabbing Arthur's arm.

What was wrong with her? Why was she defending her aggressor? Arthur wondered, until he saw it. The way she looked at Peredur. And the way Peredur looked back at her.

Slowly, he lowered his dagger and slightly released his grip.

He hadn't interrupted a fight. He had interrupted a couple's quarrel.

Arthur stepped back, a little overwhelmed by this unexpected epiphany, unsure how to react. He had grown accustomed to Peredur looking down on him insolently, but this time Peredur was looking down to his feet.

"Peredur, leave us alone. Wait for me outside," he finally requested quietly.

Peredur swallowed uneasily. "Yes, my Lord," he said obediently and walked out.

Now alone with Angharad, who was wiping her cheeks with her hands, her red eyes still filled with tears, Arthur decided to sit down to collect his thoughts.

What an idiot. How could he have not seen it before? Peredur's over-protectiveness with Angharad, his instantaneous dislike of Arthur... His dedication to duty went beyond a man's loyalty to his King.

Meanwhile, Angharad kept pacing back and forth nervously until she finally managed to stop crying. She suddenly stepped in front of him. "I... know I have no right to ask that of you, but... Please don't tell my father... Peredur will hang and I'll be banished, or worse..." she finished with a shiver.

"I won't," he promised in a whisper.

"Are you... going to cancel the wedding?" she asked hesitantly.

"Do you think I should?" he asked back earnestly and looked up at her.

He hadn't intended to, but his question apparently distressed her. Her eyes welled up with tears again. "You'd have every right to," she answered in a strangled voice.

Indeed, he would. But even without giving Colgrin the true reason, it would place Angharad in a dangerous, if not lethal position. And how fair would that be, considering her situation with Peredur wasn't too different from his with Gwen?

This thought and the irony of it all suddenly provoked an uncontrollable laugh. There was absolutely nothing funny, it was purely nervous, but he really couldn't help it. Angharad misinterpreted his reaction: she turned around and walked away, hiding her face in her hands as she started crying again.

"Oh no, no, I'm sorry," Arthur apologised, sobering up immediately. "I won't. I just... realised I spent the last few weeks hoping to find a common point between us. I never thought it'd be something like this..."

Angharad turned abruptly to face him again. She was so surprised she had stopped crying. "You mean... You too have...?"

Arhtur nodded silently.

Angharad walked back towards him and sat on the chair next to him, looking a little dazed. "I didn't notice anything, or anyone," she muttered.

"You wouldn't. She's been avoiding me since the marriage announcement," he explained sadly. "In retrospect, I think it was probably for the best. It limits the risks of embarrassing situations."

He couldn't imagine what would have happened if a Saxon had caught him with Gwen just like he had caught Angharad with Peredur...

"What's her name?" Angharad asked softly.

Her curiosity seemed genuine. It was extremely weird to discuss this subject with the woman he was supposed to marry the next day, but right now, she was probably the most likely to understand. "Guinevere. She's Morgana's maid," he said, hoping he wouldn't regret his honesty.

Angharad nodded. "I think I've met her before. She seems like a nice person."

"She is," Arthur confirmed.

"Is it... because of the rank difference, that you two can't...?"

He shrugged. "I can't see myself trying to explain that to my father... I always figured if I became King unmarried, then I'd be free to do as I want..."

Angharad smiled. "I wish I had this sort of hope. Both my sisters have been married away to foreign Lords. I've always known this would happen to me too sooner or later... Peredur kept thinking that maybe, if he proved himself enough, my father would be more willing to consider..." Her voice trailed off.

"But Peredur is not noble, so he would never have agreed either," Arthur pointed out.

Angharad turned to him sharply. "Who told you he wasn't noble?"

"Peredur himself," Arthur answered, though he was beginning to suspect it had just been another of the Saxon's provocations.

"Of course he would tell that to _you_," Angharad said with a sad smile.

"Why would he tell that to _me_ specifically, if he is?"

"Because his family used to be a noble household from Camelot..."

"Used to be?" Could this mean... "The Wykeham conspiracy?"

Angharad nodded.

"His father?"

"Grandfather."

The Wykeham conspiracy. A very well known event in Camelot's recent history. Ten years before Arthur was even born, his grandfather, the King at the time, had uncovered a major conspiracy involving half a dozen of his knights, led by Sir Brom of Wykeham. The culprits had been hanged, their families stripped of their lands and titles and banished from the Kingdom, forbidden to ever return.

"It was hard enough to tell him I was getting married, when he found out it was to the heir of Camelot he became mad..." Angharad confessed. "He wanted us to elope tonight," she added with an amused shake of the head, as if it were the most natural thing to tell to one's future husband.

In any case, it was no wonder Peredur didn't like Arthur and what he stood for very much... Title, land, the woman he loved, all taken away by Camelot's royal family... Now he understood the resentment in his voice when stating he wasn't noble... Maybe Peredur had even told the truth when explaining why he'd let Arthur win the tournament: because of Angharad...

Both Arthur and Angharad sat next to each other for a while, in complete silence, both deep in their thoughts, both worrying about the next day. Arthur was realising for the first time he wasn't the only one having an arranged marriage: _she_ was too. When he had made that decision for himself, he had in fact made it for them both.

"Do you think... Some day, in time, you and I, we'll..." Angharad said softly, finishing her sentence with a shrug and an interrogative look.

Arthur looked back at her. She was pretty, intelligent, educated, kind. He could picture himself coming to care for her. But love her?

"Maybe," he lied. "In time..."

Angharad nodded, but she didn't seemed convinced. "My sisters..." she continued. "I visit them every once in a while... They're not happy," she stated matter-of-factly.

"Well, I can't promise you'll be happy here," Arthur admitted, "but I can promise I'll do my best to make sure you're not unhappy."

Angharad smiled weakly. "Thank you." She paused. "I suppose I could have found worse. At least _you_ still have your hair..." she said, obviously referring to her much older brothers-in-law.

"And I suppose I could have found worse too. At least _you_'re not a troll..."

Angharad frowned as she completely missed the reference. When their eyes met, they both chuckled briefly.

"I should get going," Arthur declared as he stood up. "I'm glad we had this conversation," he added. They had finally managed to connect, even if it was in the weirdest and most inappropriate of ways.

"Me too," she concurred.

"Good night."

Arthur exited the room silently, and found Peredur outside, waiting for him like he had instructed. There was a kind of rightness about this man that was truly amazing. Most would have seized this opportunity to escape and save their own lives. But instead, Peredur was there, waiting expectantly to hear what fate Arthur had in store for him.

It was a pity Camelot had lost an arm, a heart and a spirit such as his because of his grandfather's poor judgement. Men like him were rare.

"This can't happen again," Arthur stated.

"It won't."

"You will keep ensuring the Princess' security until tomorrow. But once the wedding is over, you will leave the castle and return to Saxony with your King."

"Yes, my Lord," Peredur agreed with no objection.

Arthur nodded, and turned away without another word to return to his chambers.

* * *

Coming next: Chapter 16 "Encounters"


	16. Chapter 16: Encounters

**Important Note:**

Judging from the traffic stats, I'm getting the feeling some of you didn't realise the last update was a double one, and unknowingly skipped chapter 14 by going directly to the latest chapter posted. So before you start reading this new chapter, please make sure you've read chapter 14, it might be important for your understanding of what's going on here and later on...

**Chapter 16: Encounters**

Merlin entered Arthur chambers hurriedly, almost out of breath.

"Ah, there you are at last! Do you have any idea how late you are?" Arthur complained as he snatched the clothes from his hands.

"I'm doing the best I can, Sire," Merlin apologised.

Without any other word, Arthur walked behind the screen to change into the official ceremony attire Merlin had just brought, fresh and clean.

"My Lord, I'd like to... share a few concerns with you."

"Go ahead," Arthur invited, but Merlin could tell from his tone he was already irritated.

"I have the personal conviction that someone will make an attempt on the King's life today."

He heard Arthur sigh. "Again? Aren't you tired of seeing conspiracies everywhere?"

"No, I'm almost sure this time," Merlin assured. "Please, be very careful. Keep an eye open for anything that looks unusual."

"Well I believe I'll have enough on my hands already. In case you don't remember, I'll be busy getting married."

"Can't you at least increase the number of guards, or... I don't know, do something? Anything?"

Arthur sighed again. "Look. All the knights in the Kingdom are here today. I checked the security measures last night myself, everything is perfect. All ways in or out are under high surveillance. No one can get into the castle without a proper authorisation."

"Not even sorcerers?"

His question seemed to give Arthur pause. He couldn't hear the rustle of clothes any more.

"Not even sorcerers," Arthur finally confirmed after a few seconds of silence. "If one of the entrances is forced, guards on the battlements or somewhere else will see it and raise the alarm."

"But sorcerers can create illusions," Merlin contested, "hide their identities, slip past the guards, pretend to -"

"Merlin," Arthur interrupted as he walked away from the screen. "Stop worrying about nothing."

"It's not nothing, I _know_ something is going on. Arthur, you can't..." Merlin didn't finish his sentence. Arthur wasn't listening.

Well, it looked like it would be up to him to keep his eyes open during the ceremony...

"So, how do I look?" Arthur asked as he turned away from the mirror to face him.

"Like you dressed inappropriately for a funeral..." Merlin replied unenthusiastically.

"I'm serious."

"I'm serious too. When you're up there, try to put a smile on or the people will get confused and wonder who died."

"All right, you know what? Get out, you're no use here if all you do is make that sort of comments," Arthur stated with a dismissive wave of the hand. And as he grabbed his crown on the table, he looked at Merlin up and down with a wince. "You don't intend to come dressed like this, do you?"

Merlin gazed down to his own clothes. "Why, what's wrong? This is my best shirt!"

"There's going to be Camelot's highest society. The guards have instructions to leave the beggars at the doors."

"But I don't have time to change, the ceremony is about to begin!"

"Don't you think I _know_ it's beginning soon?" Arthur exclaimed. "Look, change or don't change, come or don't come, I don't care, just... go," Arthur finished impatiently.

"Well I hope you intend to marry only once because it sure doesn't make you amiable."

Arthur put his crown on top of his head and answered while checking his reflection in the mirror. "You know, if you'd rather spend the day in the dungeons instead of celebrating, I'm sure I can arrange that."

Seeing Arthur's short temper and irritability, Merlin decided he had better leave on his own.

If he hurried, he would probably have the time to change and return to the reception hall before the ceremony begun, and he certainly wanted to be there since Arthur wouldn't hear him out.

In his rush, as he was about to reach the laboratory, he didn't see the group of people walking around the corner at the same time he did, and he collided with them.

"Oh, I'm sorry, it's entirely my fault," Merlin immediately apologised with a laugh. "I wasn't looking, I -"

He stopped in mid-sentence when he looked up to their faces and his smile instantly vanished. They were four and hooded, and he could recognise most of them. He had seen them before. At a gathering. They were sorcerers.

He had guessed right, they _were_ plotting something.

But unfortunately for him, some of those warlocks seemed to recognise him as well and to realise the threat he represented for their plans...

Before Merlin could react, one of the warlocks caught him and wrapped his arms around his chest, effectively blocking his own arms.

"_Scuf_-" Merlin began, but a second sorcerer intervened by placing one hand on the back of his neck and sealing his mouth with the other.

"Hey, quiet, now."

Merlin tried to escape their grip, but it was no use, he couldn't move. He was trapped. All he could do was listen to all four of them whispering to one another:

"Who is this?"

"I saw him once at a gathering, he knows who we are."

"What's he doing here, does he work here?"

"Who cares, we've got to hurry!"

"But we can't leave him, he'll denounce us!"

"What should we do then, kill him?"

While the four warlocks hesitated and kept talking among themselves, Merlin continued to struggle to try and free himself, but to no avail, he was held too strongly and too tight. He gave a frantic look around the corridor, but there was absolutely nothing in sight he could use to distract them.

One of the warlocks grew impatient. "We don't have time for this!" he exclaimed and aimed his hand at Merlin's chest. "_Sceotan_ -"

Another caught his arm to interrupt him. "Are you crazy? This will make so much noise it will raise the alert!"

"What do you suggest then?"

"I have much more efficient," the other affirmed as he took a small vial out of one of his pockets.

Merlin's heart beat faster. He had no idea what was in this vial, but he would _not_ drink it. He tried to fight off the other sorcerers again in one last desperate attempt, but who was he kidding? They were four, and he was alone.

As soon as they freed his mouth, he tried to call; when they forced the vial on his lips, he clenched his teeth; when they poured it in his mouth, he tried to spit it out. But it was all in vain. In the end, he had swallowed most of the vial's contents.

"There. Let's go, he won't be a trouble any more."

Merlin dropped to his knees when they released him, exhausted by his struggle, while they ran away. But he could still get them before they turned around the corner, and he didn't care if it raised any alert or exposed him. He lifted his arm towards them.

"_Wyrdan Fle_-"

He couldn't finish, overcome by a sudden and violent heave.

What did they have him drink?

With the tip of his finger he collected a drop of the liquid that had dripped down his chin during the struggle and brought it to his nose. His heart skipped a beat. It smelled like belladonna, one of the most potent poisons he knew. One of the quickest too. He'd be dead before he reached the reception hall on the other side of the castle to give the alert.

Shaken, disoriented, he ran to the laboratory, thankfully only a few paces away.

"Gaius! GAIUS!" he called with desperation. But the room was empty. His tutor had already left to attend the wedding.

He took a few deep breaths, trying to control a wave of panic. He had to calm down in order to think clearly. It didn't work. His mind was already beginning to get confused. Think, Merlin, think... he urged himself.

His magic book. Antidotes.

He rushed into his room to retrieve his book and turned the pages frantically. In a few seconds, he found at least five belladonna-based poisons, only half of which had a known antidote.

Don't panic. Don't panic, don't panic, don't panic, he kept repeating like a mantra.

He chose the antidote that seemed the easiest to prepare and returned hurriedly to the laboratory to collect the ingredients he needed, trying to forget how nauseous he felt. He mixed the components together with a swiftness he had rarely shown. But as he was halfway through the preparation, the vial fell to the ground and shattered in a thousand pieces.

Merlin stared down to the hand that was holding the vial a second before, watching the convulsive spasms shaking it. His eyes filled with tears of despair. He had to start all over again. And his right hand was now so unsteady he would have to work solely with his left.

His vision was blurred, he was having more and more trouble reading the instructions: eight... no, three... He was shivering with both cold and heat. His thoughts were so clouded he wasn't sure any longer what he was doing or why.

There, he was almost done. He could barely stand on his legs any more, and he was afraid to touch the vial in case he broke it again.

He had to squint to read the last line on the page: it said that to be more efficient, the mixture had to stand for a full half hour.

He didn't _have_ a half hour. He swallowed the potion in one gulp, and waited.

His hand's convulsions didn't stop. His strength didn't return. The pain didn't go away.

It wasn't working.

His legs weren't supporting him any more. When he lost his balance, he tried to grab the table for support, but missed and fell face first on the ground, bringing a whole set of glass-work down with him in a deafening crash.

His head was throbbing so much and his heart beating so fast they felt like they were about to explode. He was suffocating, he couldn't breath any more.

Slowly, a dark veil enveloped his whole being. When his eyes shut, a few tears were shining at the rim of his eyelashes.

* * *

Coming next: Chapter 17 "The Ceremony"


	17. Chapter 17: The Ceremony

**Chapter 17: The Ceremony**

Arthur was standing at the entrance of the reception hall with his father, and waiting. He was so nervous he kept fiddling the ring in his pocket, tossing it endlessly between his fingers. It was a plain silver ring, so simple but so symbolic...

He thought briefly he hadn't seen Merlin return since he sent him away, but to be honest, he really didn't care.

King Colgrin, Angharad and Peredur finally arrived. When he saw them, Arthur felt slightly relieved. For a moment, he had feared he'd been a little too naive to leave Peredur with Angharad the previous evening: they could still have eloped together later that night. But apparently, he had been right to trust them.

Uther soon invited Colgrin inside, and Peredur followed them, leaving Arthur and Angharad alone together just outside the room.

"My Lady," Arthur greeted. "I hope you slept well."

"Like a baby," she answered in an obvious lie.

"You look quite beautiful today," he complimented politely. And it was true. She was wearing a gorgeous dress with golden threads sewn into the fabric, catching the light with her every move. The flowers plaited in her hair brought out the fairness of her features and creamy skin. When he looked at her, he knew any man would - should - be delighted to marry her; then why couldn't he bring himself to?

"Thank you, you do as well," Angharad said in return, half-heartedly. She clearly had other concerns in mind than the way he was dressed.

"I think they're waiting for us. Shall we?" he invited as he offered his left arm.

When she took it, he led her inside. The ongoing rumour among the waiting guests instantly turned into a respectful silence. Once they had reached the centre of the room, they bowed quickly to the assembly of guests. Then, they turned their backs to the crowd in order to face Uther. Angharad let go of Arthur's arm but remained on his left.

Uther was standing behind a lectern on which lay the Book of Camelot's laws and official texts. From it, he would read the vows throughout the entire ceremony. King Colgrin was standing beside Uther, facing them as well, with Peredur close to him. At Uther's right were Sir Leon and Gaius.

And then, there was Morgana, smiling at him warmly and... accompanied by Gwen.

It suddenly occurred to Arthur that Gwen would be there, right in front of him, during the entire ceremony. This was horrible. This was worse than torture, a constant reminder of what he had agreed to give up.

"We have come together here in celebration of the joining together of Angharad Aetheling and Arthur Pendragon," his father started reading. "There are many things to say about marriage. Much wisdom concerning the joining together of two souls has come our way through all paths of belief, and from many cultures. With each union, more knowledge is gained and more wisdom gathered. Though we are unable to give all this knowledge to these two who stand before us, we can hope to leave with them the knowledge of love and its strengths, and the anticipation of the wisdom that comes with time."

Arthur took a few long and deep breaths, and he closed his eyes briefly while he swallowed uneasily. The instant was solemn and soon irreversible. His heart was racing.

"If any man can shew any just cause," Uther continued, "why they may not lawfully be joined together by the laws of this Kingdom; let him now speak, or else hereafter forever hold his peace."

He paused. At that moment, Arthur couldn't help looking at Gwen, and found out she was looking at him too.

And in that one single exchanged gaze, they were both conveying everything they hadn't managed to tell each other over the last few weeks. How truly sorry he was. How he wished things were different. Meanwhile, he could read a mix of resentment, anger, sorrow and resignation in Gwen's eyes.

When she gave him a weak and sad smile, he forced himself to look away, afraid someone would notice their silent exchange. His gaze fell on Peredur, who was staring at the floor with his fists closed and his jaw clenched. But he, too, remained silent.

Uther finally resumed speaking: "Marriage is a bond to be entered into only after considerable thought and reflection. As with any aspect of life, it has its cycles, its ups and its downs, its trials and its triumphs. With full understanding of this, Arthur and Angharad have come here today to be joined as one in marriage."

He and Gwen, Peredur and Angharad... Did anyone else have any idea what all four of them were going through? Arthur suddenly wondered. Probably not, sadly...

"Angharad, is it true that you come of your own free will and accord?" Uther asked solemnly.

"Yes, it is true," she answered in a weak, slightly unsteady voice.

"With whom do you come and whose blessings accompany you?"

"She comes with me, her father," King Colgrin said in a clear voice as he took a few steps forward, "and is accompanied by all of her family's blessings." Once he was done, he walked back to his previous position.

"Please join hands with your betrothed," Uther instructed, "and listen to that which I am about to say."

Arthur offered his hand, and Angharad put hers upon his. It was freezing cold and shaking. He squeezed it slightly in what he hoped to be a comforting gesture, just to remind her she wasn't alone in this.

"Let the powers of the mind guide you in your marriage," Uther resumed, "let the strength of your wills bind you together, let the power of love and desire make you happy, and the strength of your dedication make you inseparable. Have patience with one another, for storms will come, but they will pass quickly. Be free in giving affection and warmth. Have no fear and let not the ways of the unenlightened give you unease."

He paused briefly, then turned to his son.

"Arthur, I have not the right to bind you to Angharad, only you have this right. If it be your wish, say so at this time and place your ring in her hand."

Arthur retrieved the ring from his pocket and gave it to Angharad. "It is my wish," he recited.

"Angharad," Uther went on as he turned to her, "if it be your wish for Arthur to be bound to you, place the ring on his finger."

Angharad was still so nervous her movements were imprecise, and Arthur had to help the ring find the correct finger.

"Angharad, I have not the right to bind you to Arthur, only you have this right. If it be your wish, say so at this time and place your ring in his hand."

It was Angharad's turn to hand her ring to Arthur. "It is my wish."

"Arthur, if it be your wish for Angharad to be bound to you, place the ring on her finger."

Just like Angharad had done, Arthur slid the silver ring on her left ring finger.

"Now repeat after me."

Arthur began to repeat conscientiously the vows his father dictated, talking directly to Angharad.

"I, Arthur Pendragon, Crown Prince of Camelot, by the life that courses within my blood and the love that resides within my heart, take you, Angharad Aetheling, Princess of Saxony, to my hand, my heart, and my spirit, to be my chosen one."

At this point, he saw from the corner of his eyes Gwen whispering something to Morgana.

"I promise to love you wholly and completely without restraint," he continued while Morgana nodded to Gwen, "in sickness and in health, in plenty and in poverty," he said as Gwen took a few steps away from Morgana, "in life and beyond, where we shall meet, remember, and love again." His heart skipped a beat when Gwen slowly and discreetly left the room. "I shall..." he mumbled but quickly picked up with his father's dictation. "I shall not seek to change you in any way. I shall respect you, your beliefs, your people, and your ways as I respect myself," he finally finished.

While his father had Angharad repeat the same vows, Arthur barely listened. He was still shocked, and more affected than he'd admit by Gwen's sudden departure.

"I, King Uther Pendragon, now pronounce you husband and wife. May your love so endure that its flame remains a guiding light unto you."

With those words concluding the vows, Uther waved them to get closer to each other. Arthur faced Angharad with an interrogative look and, with her unspoken authorisation, laid a quick, loveless kiss on her lips. Then, they both turned to the crowd to introduce themselves as husband and wife for the first time.

There, done. It hadn't been so hard, had it? Arthur thought with a sigh, relieved it was over at last.

He brusquely remembered Merlin's comment, and forced himself to smile.

While the crowd clapped their hands, Uther walked to him and... took him in his arms in a fatherly hug he wasn't accustomed to. Arthur also found he seemed... moved. It was really bizarre.

Even King Colgrin - no, his father-in-law - was apparently touched as well, for when he tried to speak up, probably to congratulate the newlyweds, he had to cough a few times to clear his voice, only to retreat a few steps away to recover.

Meanwhile, Arthur's gaze ran over the crowd until he noticed several abnormal movements, lost in the multitude. There were four individuals, scattered among the people, displaying a strange behaviour. While everyone around them was still applauding, they all had a hand raised at shoulder level and were all muttering something. They didn't seem armed, but...

It hit him when he saw the light at the tip of their fingers.

"Everyone down!" Arthur shouted and, instinctively, dragged Angharad to the ground with him, shielding her body with his as what he could only assume were projectiles flew right above their heads.

* * *

Author's Note: I'd be curious to know how many of you thought the ceremony would be interrupted before the end! :-D Let me know in a review!

Please don't desert this story if you hoped it would, and stick around at least a couple more chapters, because trust me, anything can happen!

The ceremony vows are shamelessly inspired/adapted/stolen from a medieval pagan ceremony text available on dfwx dot com.


	18. Chapter 18: Chasing Shadows

**Previously**: This is Arthur's wedding day. Merlin got poisoned by four sorcerers and was left for dead in the laboratory after failing to cure himself. Meanwhile, Gwen left during the wedding ceremony. Once the ceremony was over, Arthur noticed the four sorcerers in the attending crowd, shooting at them.

* * *

**Chapter 18: Chasing Shadows**

Merlin opened his eyes very slowly, and blinked a few times. His vision was blurred, and he was covered in sweat. His breathing was irregular. He also felt like something very tiny was hammering very hard on his skull every single second.

He finally managed to focus on his surroundings when the fog obscuring his eyes cleared a little.

He was laying on the ground, apparently in Gaius' laboratory, but also on a layer of broken glass shards. The sensation of dampness on his cheek seemed to come from a small puddle of saliva. There was also a residual acrid taste in his mouth that he couldn't identify.

At that moment, Merlin was completely confused as to what he was doing there, how he had ended on the ground, and what had happened exactly. He had the vague feeling he had lost consciousness for a while, but everything in his head was such a blur...

He tried his best to collect his thoughts. As he sat up, he brushed away the few shards that were sticking to his cheek, and the burning on his skin as he did so alerted him that he probably had several minor cuts there.

He stood up with difficulty, but he could barely stand on his feet. He leant on the table with both his forearms to regain his balance, and took a few long, deep breaths with his eyes closed to stop his head from spinning. When he opened them again, he found there, right under his nose, his magic book opened at the page of an antidote.

All of a sudden, it all came back to him. The wedding ceremony, Arthur sending him away to change, the collision, the aggression, the poison...

The ceremony.

He had to warn them.

Merlin rushed out of the laboratory, but was quickly caught up by a heave. He had no other choice than to stop running and to rest a hand on the nearest wall as he doubled up and emptied his stomach's contents on the floor.

His headache resumed with renewed vigour, and he could tell from the waves of shivers he had a really high fever.

He didn't think the antidote he had prepared had really worked. Would he be so sick if it had? Would he feel like he could still die any second?

His reason and body were both screaming at him to stop and sit down, arguing he didn't have the strength to stand up and go all the way to the reception hall. But his heart was telling him to keep going. He _had_ to keep going, he was probably the only one able to stop those sorcerers...

But how long had he remained unconscious? How much time had he lost? Was he too late already?

He put those thoughts aside. He _had_ to go on.

Mustering the little energy he had left, he struggled to put one foot in front of the other. And again. And again. Just the other side of the corridor seemed to be on the other side of the world. A side of the world where everything kept pitching and rolling. He had to pause nearly every ten steps like a weak, breathless old man. This was maddening.

If only he had reacted quicker when he had crossed their path, he may have managed to stop them before they had a chance to carry out their scheme. Or maybe if he'd kept going to the gatherings, he could have sensed the threat, perhaps interfered before their plans became too real, who knew...

If he found out they had succeeded, he would regret it for the rest of his life.

While he had given up hoping for it, the reception hall was in sight at last. The main doors were guarded, but the guards had their backs to him as they were turned towards the inside, probably to follow the ceremony as well. They didn't pay any attention to him when he slipped by to reach an unattended side entrance. They didn't hear him push the door open and enter the room.

He stepped behind a pillar, half for the hide, half for the rest it provided. It was the only thing that prevented him from collapsing to the floor out of relief - he wasn't too late.

Someone was talking, but he couldn't tell who it was or what he was saying. He didn't care. All he cared about were the other sorcerers' whereabouts. He couldn't see any of them from where he was standing, they had probably mingled with the guests. The voice fell silent, and after a few seconds the crowd began to applaud. Did that mean the ceremony was over? Where were they?

He didn't have to wonder for long. Someone shouted something, and nearly at the same instant four shots rose from the crowd, all aimed in the same direction - where all the most important figures were.

As if in a dream, time slowed down around Merlin. Fire blasts, sparks, magic arrows, all were frozen in their progressions. After all these years, he still had no idea how he did that, how it always happened when he needed it the most.

"_Feorr Onweg_," he whispered while focusing all his attention on the shots, but he didn't have the strength to make a single movement. He was so tired he wasn't sure he could handle all four together.

One after the other, he tried to deflect each of them. Only a few inches maybe, but that was all he could manage.

When time started to flow at a normal speed again, he was completely washed-up. People screamed with panic and started running all over the place. He didn't know if he had achieved anything, whether any of the shots had reached their target or not. He slid to the floor amidst the general indifference, surrounded by the chaos of a stampede.

* * *

Arthur sat up energetically. The tip of his tunic was scorched, and he could feel the heat through the fabric – it had been a pretty close call. From the corner of his eyes he saw that it had been close for his father too. There were, what, arrows? planted in the wall behind him, a few inches away from his head.

The King was already giving orders to the guards, which prompted Arthur to turn to the crowd: people had run away from the shooters, leaving them isolated in the middle of the room. Knights were already advancing towards them, but as the aggressors sensed their luck was turning they began running for their lives.

He would _not_ let them escape.

Arthur instantly stood up and made to go after them, but an afterthought stopped him. He looked back at Angharad, still on the ground, safe but shocked.

"I will guard her with my life," Peredur stepped up. "Go."

Arthur stared at the other man. This was unexpected, but... he knew he _would _look after her. He nodded with gratitude and resumed heading after the shooters.

"Everyone, with me!" he ordered the knights, waving them to follow.

On their way out, Arthur caught sight of a collapsed body in a corner of the room. He quickly identified Merlin, conscious and looking back at him as he ran by, but obviously in a pretty bad shape. Still, part of Arthur couldn't help notice he hadn't changed.

By the time Arthur was out of the room with at least a dozen knights in tow, two of the attackers were out of sight, one was just disappearing around the corner, while the fourth one, already out of breath and apparently not the sporty type, was only paces away.

This one wasn't going to go very far, Arthur noted with satisfaction. Compared to a small troop of trained soldiers all in an excellent physical condition, he didn't stand a single chance. It only took them a few seconds to catch up with him. The man barely had the time to realise what was going on and to vaguely attempt a defensive action before he found himself pined down to the floor, with a knight's knee buried in the small of his back, his arms bent behind him, and a wince of pain on his face.

"Take him to the dungeons!" Arthur ordered two of the guards. "Do _not_ let him escape, you hear me? And I want him _alive_ when I come back!"

"Yes, Sire!" they answered in unison.

Then, Arthur waved the other knights to split up in smaller groups and spread into the corridors in order to cover more ground more quickly and find the remaining three fugitives.

As he explored the castle with two knights, Arthur had the opportunity to control that all exits were as well guarded as he had ordered. Every time they came across one of them, he checked with the guards, but none had encountered any incident: they had let no one out over the last half hour.

They kept going all over the hallways, the floors, searching every single room, trying to lose as little time as possible, but never found anyone. Soon, they met up with another group of patrolling knights after they had all covered the area they had in charge: still no luck. A third group arrived: nothing either. Same for the next.

The entire castle had been searched, all exits had been checked, but three out of four shooters were unaccounted for.

This was incomprehensible, where had they gone? Three men couldn't vanish so quickly, so where were they?


	19. Chapter 19: The Letter

**Chapter 19: The Letter**

Arthur rushed into the dungeons, piqued to have lost track of three of their attackers. Where had he gone wrong? What had he overlooked when taking the security measures? He was so sure everything was perfect, so where had he failed?

Arthur approached the cell where the only sorcerer they had managed to catch was detained. The man had his hands tied behind his back and his feet bound together, and was constantly under the high surveillance of two guards.

This one was Arthur's one chance to uncover what he and his companions were after.

"What's your name?" Arthur interrogated through the bars. The prisoner remained mute. "Why did you attack us, and did you have a specific target?"

The prisoner watched him with amusement, but didn't say a single word. He was really beginning to annoy Arthur...

"How did you and your friends get into the castle, and how did they escape?" he continued.

The prisoner smirked. "You will never find them. They're far by now."

Arthur sighed and turned to the guards. "Did you search him?"

The guards looked at each other, embarrassed. Arthur had a feeling the answer was going to be _no_.

"Sire, we..." one began hesitantly. "Well, he's a sorcerer, he could..."

Arthur crossed his arms over his chest, waiting for the explanation.

"My Lord," the other continued, "I'm afraid I wouldn't dare put my hands in his pockets, who knows what's in there?"

"Precisely," Arthur said with a sigh and rolled his eyes.

Superstitions...

He unlocked the cell and stepped inside, resolute to search that man himself. The prisoner looked up at him when he walked near, but didn't resist when Arthur reached into one of his pockets.

He retrieved a couple of small glass vials from it. All were full, except one. "What's in there?" he asked.

"Cough mixture," the prisoner answered with a cocky smile.

"Really?" He was not amused. "You know, I'm having a rather bad day, so I suggest you don't try my patience..." He paused. "Well, maybe the easiest way to find out what it is would be to try it on you, what do you think?"

The prisoner's smile froze. "I think you would have a hard time getting more information from me after that."

Arthur nodded. "Poison. That's what I thought... Who goes around without his own vial of poison, nowadays, right?" he continued ironically while he searched another pocket.

There, he found a well-filled purse, took it out of the pocket and hefted it.

"This looks like an awful lot of money... Where did you get it? Did you steal it?

"No need to..."

"Does that mean someone paid you?"

"You'd be surprised how much some people would be willing to pay to see your bloodline end with you..."

"I'll take that as a yes... Who paid you, then?"

The sorcerer fell silent again. Arthur opened the purse and thrust his hand into it.

"No matter how many people would be willing to pay you to attempt what you did, not many could afford -"

He stopped as his gaze fell on the coins he had picked up. He flipped them a few times more.

No... No, this couldn't be...

His throat tightened. He had a really bad feeling about this.

"These are Saxon coins." Arthur stated. "Who paid you with these?"

As could be expected, the prisoner remained silent again, with a satisfied smile on his face.

Saxon coins. This could only mean one of two things: either it was all a conspiracy instigated by the Saxons, or the money had been planted to set _them_ against the Saxons...

"Who was your target?" Arthur demanded. Still no answer. "You failed, it's over. You might as well tell me now."

The sorcerer sighed. "We were paid to kill you and the King, right after the vows, while all the attention was focused on you."

"Why specifically after the vows? And why do it publicly instead of using this?" he asked while waving one of the vials of poison. "No one would have been able to find you if you had."

"We did as we were requested. Why is none of our concerns."

"Then who paid you to sacrifice yourself trying to kill the King and I?"

"I did this sacrifice voluntarily, for a cause I believe in!"

"A cause? The only thing that cause of yours will get you is a one-way trip to the stake. So let me ask you one last time: who paid you?"

The prisoner didn't say a word. Arthur knew he wouldn't get anything else from him.

The dungeons' doors slammed open when the King barged in, closely followed by Sir Leon. "Is this one of them?" he immediately asked Arthur.

"Yes, Sire."

Uther walked straight to the sorcerer, and stopped right in front of him, looking down at him with a hateful expression on his face. "Will we be able to live in peace only once we've gotten rid of all those of his kind?"

"Let's not jump to conclusions, Sire," Arthur objected. "They're mercenaries."

Uther turned abruptly to him. "They were hired? By whom?"

"He won't say."

The King looked back at the prisoner. "Well, maybe a little torture will loosen up his tongue," he stated coldly. With a simple nod, he ordered the guards to take him away.

Under other circumstances, Arthur may have felt a little sympathy for the man. Right now, he had none to spare.

"It's not all," Arthur alerted while the guards carried the prisoner out. "I found this on him," he said as he gave a couple of Saxon coins to his father.

A succession of expressions of surprise, anger and fury followed one another on Uther's face. With unexpected calm, he turned to Sir Leon: "I want all the Saxons in the castle gathered in the Great Hall in five minutes. Including King Colgrin. _Especially_ King Colgrin."

"Right away, Sire," Sir Leon agreed and left in a blink.

Uther left after him, at a furious pace. Arthur decided to follow him.

"Sire, it could just be an attempt to thwart the peace process with the Saxons," Arthur reasoned, "by directing our suspicions towards them."

"Well I'm sure King Colgrin will have ample time to explain this to us when I confront him in a minute," Uther stated between greeted teeth.

Judging from his tone, Arthur wondered if his father planned to let Colgrin explain himself before or after he ran a sword through his body.

As they walked down the corridor, they crossed the path of Gaius, supporting Merlin to help him stand. Arthur noted his servant really looked beyond sick, like he could collapse any second. He had the conviction Merlin had done something, back there in the reception hall during the attack – after all, he _had_ warned Arthur in the morning. Would the sorcerers have reached their targets if Merlin hadn't been there? he suddenly wondered.

"All I'm saying is we shouldn't spoil everything we've done so far by judging too hastily," Arthur resumed. "Maybe Colgrin has nothing to do with this and will be as surprised as we are."

"We'll see," was his father's only answer.

When they reached the Great Hall, a handful of Saxons were already waiting there: Angharad, Peredur, and several Saxon knights. All seemed to wonder what was going on.

"Where's Colgrin?" Uther demanded.

"We're still looking for him, Sire," one of the guards answered. "It seems we were unable to find him in his chambers where he had retired after the attack."

"My Lord," Sir Leon suddenly came in running, "one of our outposts spotted riders heading East, away from the castle. They believe one of them is King Colgrin."

Arthur closed his eyes briefly when he realised it meant Colgrin _was_ the one behind the attacks. There was no more doubt about it. Why else would he have escaped like this? His absence was worse than a confession.

"What's going on?" Angharad stepped in. "Why would my father leave?"

Uther sighed. "My Lady, you will be confined to your chambers from now on and until further notice. Please take her away," he ordered the guards.

"What? Why?" Angharad contested with panic in her eyes.

Peredur unsheathed his sword when one of the Camelot's knights seized her by the wrist. "Unhand her right away!" he menaced.

"And take all the others to the dungeons," Uther continued his orders.

When Camelot's guards circled them, largely outnumbering the Saxons, Peredur had no other choice than to drop his sword and let them take him away along with the others.

"I don't think any of them knew about Colgrin's plans," Arthur confided, "otherwise they would have escaped with him."

"I don't think they did either," Uther agreed, "unless Colgrin chose to leave a few spies behind..." He paused and shook his head. "What kind of a father would leave his own child behind to the hands of his enemy?" he muttered.

Arthur remembered Angharad's frightened and lost look when she was escorted out. "What now?" he asked.

"They tried to kill us, they failed, now they're returning to the front... If Colgrin wants a war, he _will_ have a war..." his father answered resolutely.

* * *

Arthur wandered aimlessly through the city's empty streets in the late afternoon, still confounded by the sudden turn of events.

The sorcerer had confirmed under torture that Colgrin was the one who had hired them. There was no place left for doubt any more.

So everything he had fought to build over the last month, the alliance, the peace treaty, the wedding, it was all a trickery, nothing more than an elaborate masquerade... But why go to all this trouble, why marry him to his daughter if all Colgrin wanted from the start was a clear shot at him and his father?

This didn't make any sense...

Why was everything falling apart like this?

This was too much. He needed to talk to someone and get it all off his chest. But Merlin was probably still being healed by Gaius at the moment, and the only other person he could see himself talking to might not even let him in, he thought as he stopped in front of Gwen's door.

He didn't have any right to bother her again after what he put her through. But everything was so twisted in his mind – the alliance, the conspiracy, Colgrin's betrayal, his wedding, Merlin's magic – that right now, Gwen was probably the only steady point left.

He finally knocked lightly. "Guinevere?"

She didn't answer.

"Gwen, I know you probably don't want to talk to me right now, but..."

But what? I need you?

As he tried to think of something to say, he rested on the door, and very nearly fell to the ground when it gave way under his weight. The door wasn't even closed...

And the house was empty, Arthur realised as he looked around. Literally empty. The furniture was still there, but all of Gwen's belongings seemed to be gone.

Overcome by a sudden dread, he hurried inside, but his initial impression was correct. Nothing was left. All that remained seemed to be something in the middle of the table. A letter, sealed, with a name on it. Arthur picked it up with a trembling hand.

It wasn't addressed to him.

* * *

Coming next: Chapter 20 "The Break Down"


	20. Chapter 20: The Break Down

**Chapter 20: The Break Down**

Merlin waited patiently while Gaius held him by the chin and moved his head left and right to examine the wounds made by the broken glass on his cheek.

"The cuts are only superficial," Gaius declared, "now that I have cleaned them they should heal on their own rather quickly." Then, he released him and took a few steps back. "Do you have any idea how lucky you are to have survived this by stumbling on a mix that slowed down the poison?" he asked on a tone that was halfway between reproach and relief, then sighed. "Well. In any case, congratulations on making up your very first potion."

"I didn't make up anything, the recipe is in the book..." Merlin dismissed.

"The one with the tansy you can't have used because I've been out of stock for weeks?"

Merlin's face instantly dropped and he rushed to check his magic book: Gaius was right, there was normally tansy in the antidote he had tried to prepare.

"Like I said, incredibly lucky..." Gaius repeated. "So, are you feeling better now that you had an actual antidote?"

"Much better, thank you."

There was a knock at the laboratory's door, and Arthur walked in before anyone answered. He made to speak, but stopped and frowned as he looked at the shards of glass still scattered on the floor, obviously wondering what had happened there.

"My Lord, is there anything I can do for you?" Gaius asked.

"Thanks Gaius, but I came to see Merlin, I saw he wasn't feeling well earlier..." Then he turned to Merlin. "So, how are you doing?"

Merlin shrugged. "I'm fine now."

"Good. Good..." Arthur hesitated. "I, erm... I just... went by Gwen's house. She wasn't there, and all her belongings are gone. It... looks like she left," he announced with incertitude.

"Oh," Merlin simply mouthed with disappointment. So she had finally made her decision... Turned out she couldn't stand to watch the wedding, after all, just like she had feared...

Apparently, Arthur picked up on his lack of surprise.

"You knew..." It was a statement, not a question. "Figures..." Arthur muttered as he handed Merlin something. "She left this for you," he said and turned away.

It was a sealed letter with Merlin's name on it.

"You didn't read it," Merlin pointed out, seeing the seal was intact.

"It's not meant for me," Arthur concluded as he left the room.

"Arthur!" Merlin called and made to follow him, but Gaius stopped him.

"Merlin, no. Give him some space," his tutor advised. "I believe our Prince has had a quite trying day..."

"But..." he began to protest, and finally sighed.

Merlin had detected a mix of sadness and resentment in Arthur's voice, and he could easily understand why. While he was certainly moved by her departure, why would Gwen leave a letter to _him_ instead of Arthur?

He broke the seal and proceeded to read the letter right away, hoping to find out. When he was done, he shook his head with sorrow. He had to let Arthur see this.

When he headed for the door, Gaius caught his wrist to stop him. "Merlin, you still need to rest."

"Well, now that you healed me, I have all my life ahead of me to rest, right?"

Once Gaius let him go reluctantly, Merlin hurried to Arthur's chambers and found him there, facing the window, not sparing a single look for him when he entered the room.

"It may be addressed to me, but everything in there is written for you," Merlin immediately stated, waving the letter in the air. "She left it for me because she thought I'd be the first to find it. You might as well read the letter yourself."

"Not now Merlin."

"She begins by saying she decided to leave and plans on getting to her cousin's. And from then on it's almost all meant for you, here: _tell Arthur_ -" he began to read.

"I said not now..."

"- _no one is at fault for the way things turned out. Tell him also I wish him a lot of happiness with Angharad and the best of lives. She seems like a kind woman and I am sure she will be a great Queen at his side_."

Even after he was done reading, Arthur remained resolutely silent and still in front of the window. Was he sulking? How could he possibly resent Gwen for making that decision?

"You can't blame her for choosing to leave and protect herself," Merlin accused, "instead of staying and suffering in silence after _you_ chose to marry someone else, surely you can understand that! So please, tell me, what's wrong?" he finished on an almost aggressive tone.

"What's wrong, you ask?" Arthur exclaimed with a snort. "In only one day, I got married, to a stranger, a woman already involved with another man, four sorcerers - not one, _four_ - breached into the castle while I had checked the security measures myself, they tried to kill me, and my father, I found out my father-in-law had hired them to do so, I drove the woman that I love away from the city, she left her parting words to _you_, and the war I fought to avoid will happen anyway." He paused. "Pick one," he added in a strangled voice.

"What?" Merlin muttered under his breath.

Under other circumstances, his first reaction would have been to comment about Arthur describing Gwen as the woman he loved - finally. But hearing the acute distress in the Prince's voice, discovering that King Colgrin had something to do with the sorcerers' attacks, and then the enumeration of events Arthur had had to face over the last few hours... He really didn't feel like teasing him.

Those were all events he knew Arthur could deal with individually, or even several at once. But all at the same time? Adding the stress and pressure occasioned by the wedding, and suddenly finding Gwen had left, mostly because of him?

And on top of all this, there he came, tactless Merlin, insisting to read him Gwen's words and then nearly accusing him of being insensitive and self-centred, when he already had so much on his plate...

Arthur was still silent, and was clearly deliberately keeping his back to him to conceal his face. He was breathing heavily, a hand covering his eyes, rubbing his temples with his thumb and his middle finger.

He was snapping, and he didn't want anyone to see him like this.

Merlin, you're an idiot. An absolute idiot, he scolded himself. Gaius had been right, he shouldn't have followed him. Embarrassed and rueful, he slowly stepped back towards the door to let Arthur alone at last.

"You know," Arthur began softly before he could leave, "when I met Colgrin for the first time, when I sensed this opportunity to make peace with him, I thought... _That's_ something worth being remembered for."

Merlin silently walked away from the door to hear what he had to say.

"_King Arthur, brought lasting peace with the Saxons,_" Arthur enunciated on a derisive tone. "That's why I pushed for the negotiations. That's why I agreed to the marriage. Because I thought I could make a difference. Because of my pride," he added with a snort. "How presumptuous was I, thinking I would succeed where all my ancestors had failed? Now look at the mess I've made, how many people I've hurt..." he finished sadly.

"It could have worked," Merlin encouraged. "And even if this attempt failed, that doesn't mean you'll never achieve something _worth being remembered for_," he quoted.

Arthur snorted again and shook his head. "How?"

Merlin hesitated, and finally shrugged. "_King Arthur, worst wedding day ever_?"

He saw Arthur's shoulders move with his short chuckle. "I'm serious. If the result of my best efforts is this complete disaster, what can I hope to ever accomplish as a King?"

"Why do you want to rush things like this? You're not even King yet," Merlin pointed out. "Do you think your father never made any mistake?"

"He didn't want to negotiate in the first place. I'm the only reason we did. If it weren't for me, none of this would have happened..."

"It might not have worked out the way you had planned today, but you'll have plenty of time to accomplish great things once you're King, and you will, things even greater than what your father did..."

"How can you be so sure?"

Merlin hesitated. Because he had a prophecy to prove it? "I just know it. Besides, I'll be there to help you do it."

"Oh, a lot of good that will do me..." Arthur stated as he turned to face him at last.

Merlin smiled. The sarcasm being back _had _to be a good sign. He noted Arthur was observing him pensively from the corner of his eyes, and wondered what he had in mind.

"Joking aside..." Arthur finally began. "Back in the reception hall today, you _did_ something, right? Like... deflect the shots?"

"You think I'm responsible for those people's bad aim?" Merlin dismissed.

Arthur sighed. "Is it even possible to miss one's target with magic?"

Merlin didn't answer. No, it probably wasn't, and Arthur had apparently guessed that. But the Prince kept observing him. Merlin could tell from his expression he was dying to ask another question but hesitated to do so.

"How many times have you done this?" Arthur finally asked softly. "Stepping in secretly to save me or someone else?"

Ah, there they were. _The_ conversation about magic. The one he had been both hoping for and dreading ever since Arthur had worked out he had magic...

* * *

Coming next: Chapter 21 "Acting up as court jester" (a title as confusing as I hope it to be)

And yay for the 100+ reviews! Keep them coming!


	21. Chapter 21: Acting up as Court Jester

**Chapter 21: Acting up as Court Jester**

"How many times have you done this?" Arthur finally asked softly. "Stepping in secretly to save me or someone else?"

Ah, there they were. _The_ conversation about magic. The one he had been both hoping for and dreading ever since Arthur had worked out he had magic... But for the moment, there was still more dread than hope.

"I don't know," Merlin said simply.

"Surely you can venture a guess," Arthur insisted. "I put some thought in this recently, and I could think of at least a couple of occasions when something similar happened, so how many?"

So Arthur had thought about it...

"Come on, four, five times?"

Merlin remained silent.

"More?" Arthur guessed with sagacity.

"I've lost count..." Merlin finally whispered.

Arthur's gaze became distant as he was visibly shaken by the realisation Merlin had intervened way much more than he'd thought. "Am I that bad at staying alive?" he eventually commented with a snort.

Merlin shrugged. "I'd rather say you're just very good at getting people trying to kill you."

Arthur couldn't help a good-hearted laugh. "You know, if some day you grow tired of being a servant, you should really apply for court jester..."

"Court jester? Aren't they considered valuable advisers in some cultures?" Seeing Arthur's surprised look, Merlin added: "See, I _do_ listen sometimes."

"Only when it suits you, apparently..." Arthur retorted as he rolled his eyes. "In any case... For today, and for... all those times I'm not even aware of... Thank you," he said. "But next time - if there _is_ a next time - don't hide it from me. I need to know those things. I shouldn't be led to believe I miraculously escaped some dangerous situation only thanks to my skills, if it wasn't the case."

"All right, I'll try," Merlin agreed, a little embarrassed by this sudden recognition. He wondered if he'd be capable of going to Arthur to tell him he'd just saved his life by using magic. It sounded a lot like bragging and it was so far from what he was doing this for...

"Talking of which, I'd like you to clarify something for me... Do you remember that day we met, on the marketplace?"

"Yes?"

"We had a little... encounter, during which I was a little _too_ clumsy... You used magic against me, didn't you?"

Merlin sensed Arthur only wished to have confirmation that his clumsiness that day hadn't been actual clumsiness. He smiled. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Come on, it was such a long time ago, you can tell me now..."

"I really don't remember," Merlin continued with a smirk. "I guess we'll never know."

"Admit it, you cheated!"

"I didn't _cheat_!" Merlin exclaimed with fake outrage. "You used your skills, I used mine!"

"I _knew_ it! You cheated!" Arthur gloated.

"You kept bragging you knew how to kill since you were five, what was I to do? Let you maim me?"

Arthur observed him thoughtfully in silence. "We didn't really get off on the right foot, did we?" And then, all of a sudden, he asked the most unexpected question: "Why have you stayed at my service all this time?"

"What do you mean?" Merlin asked back with uncertainty. Apparently, this was the day Arthur dared all questions, with no more taboo subject, while he himself still felt somewhat uncomfortable with it.

"I mean..." Arthur paused and sighed. "I used to think becoming a servant at the castle was a good social improvement for a peasant. But ever since I realised what you've had to hide every day, I don't get it any more, it's been puzzling me for weeks... Staying here puts you in such a dangerous position, so why? Why did you stay?"

It sounded like Arthur had piled up a lot of unanswered questions over the months since he had found out about Merlin's magic, and had decided to ask them all that night...

"Well, you need someone to look after you..." Merlin eluded.

"Oh, I _knew _you would answer something as stupid as that..." Arthur complained. "Come on, you had no idea how I would react if I found out, and had I found earlier, I'm not even sure myself I wouldn't have sent you straight to the stake. And you _did_ know what would happen if it reached my father's ears. So why? Why take that risk?"

Merlin remained silent. He didn't know what to say. He couldn't tell Arthur about the prophecy, could he? He couldn't tell him there was a great dragon living under the castle, who had revealed to him how their destinies were linked...

"Look, it's all right if you don't want to talk about it," Arthur finally announced. "Today, nearly all the certitudes I had vanished one after the other, I was just hoping to fill in one or two of those gaps..."

Arthur was asking questions, listening to what he was saying, and as open as he would ever be to discuss this subject. Why wouldn't Merlin jump on the occasion and actually answer, for once?

"I stayed because I, too, aspire to a greater destiny," he announced. "I know I'm just a servant, and I know I can't shoot a bow properly or discuss about battle strategies all day long. But like I said, I believe some day, you will be a great King, and I want to be a part of this, even if it has to be in the most insignificant way possible. It doesn't matter if I have to stay in the shadows in order to do it, but if at the end of my life I can look back and say with certitude that, on my own scale, I ever so slightly contributed to helping you become the great King I know you will be, then I'll be happy," he finished.

That was all he could say without actually mentioning the prophecy.

"That's very... selfless and noble," Arthur stated hesitantly. "And I didn't realise you too had such high expectations of me... It seems you are many in that case..."

"Yes, we are many to believe in you, and I really don't understand why you keep doubting yourself. When will you stop having this sort of inferiority complex regarding your father, like you stopped having this superiority complex regarding everyone else?"

Arthur stared at him with a strange gleam in his eyes.

"My Lord," Merlin added hurriedly. For a moment there, he had completely and entirely forgotten who Arthur was and who _he_ was - or rather who he was _not_.

"Duly noted," Arthur said simply with his lips pursed. "Anything else to add?"

"No," Merlin muttered.

"Not even about yourself? Because I suppose you're not telling me everything, and still have secrets to hide."

Merlin made to speak, but Arthur immediately interrupted him by raising his hand.

"No, no, it's fine, I respect that. It's probably better that I don't know everything. One step at a time..." he declared. "All I want is that you promise me you wouldn't hide anything that could endanger someone's life, or the Kingdom's security or integrity."

"Of course not," Merlin immediately agreed.

Arthur nodded and, with a wistful look, faced the window again. Merlin noticed he was absent-mindedly fidgeting with his wedding ring.

"Since we are being honest with each other tonight, I'd like to ask you something in return," Merlin mustered the courage to say.

Arthur turned back to him with surprise. "Yes?"

"Please don't judge all sorcerers and put them all in the category of enemies of the Kingdom because of what a few of them did today. It's not representative of what they - what _we_ are."

"I won't. I never intended to," Arthur replied with a shrug. "These four were mercenaries, hired by Colgrin to help him overthrow the Kingdom. As far as I'm concerned, magic or no magic, it doesn't make any difference. I can't speak for my father, naturally, but to me, they're nothing more than Colgrin's underlings."

"Thank you," Merlin said and, both satisfied with Arthur's answers and feeling the conversation was over, he turned to leave.

"Merlin," Arthur called him back. "Those sorcerers... Were they... the same ones you heard plot against the King a few weeks ago?"

"I believe so," Merlin concurred.

"So all of this could have been avoided if I had timely listened to your warnings?"

"You were preoccupied, and I didn't have enough pertinent information..." Merlin minimised.

"No, I should admit my mistakes," Arthur insisted. "I put us all in a quite dire situation by ignoring your request for caution, so that's a good and humbling lesson to learn. No one's advice is too small to be discarded. Not even the court jester's..." he added with a smile. "Maybe I should start taking _your_ advice about the castle's security measures."

Merlin smiled back. "I doubt anyone could do that better than you. I think I heard once the King say the castle had never been safer ever since he delegated that responsibility to you."

"Then why do I still not know what I missed or where I failed when taking those measures for today?" Arthur retorted. "I have absolutely no idea how these sorcerers managed to get in, or how three of them managed to flee with Colgrin leaving no trace at all..."

"Colgrin fled?" Merlin interrupted. "But Angharad..."

"Still here, abandoned by her own father..." Arthur said with a sad smile. "I'm not sure what the King plans to do about her exactly. I believe he's aware she can't have anything to do with Colgrin's scheme, but he can't let her go free. And he can't really imprison her either, I mean... Well, we _are_ married," he added, showing his ring finger to illustrate his words. "But for the moment, dealing with her or the remaining Saxons is the least of our priorities. It seems Colgrin is heading back to the front, so we're going to have to mobilise again and try to stop him, just like we were supposed to a month ago..."

Arthur fell silent once more. Judging from his sudden frown, this prospect was worrying him a lot. As Merlin considered leaving again, his gaze fell on Gwen's letter, still in his hand. He waved it slowly.

"She... goes on to say where she went exactly, in case I need to contact her. Do you wish to know?"

Arthur hesitated for a few seconds. "No," he finally whispered with a hint of regrets in his voice. "You are right, I should respect her decision and leave her in peace. Just tell me if she went West or East from here."

"South-West."

"Good. She'll be safer there... And, Merlin..." Arthur called again. "Thanks for being such a good friend. To me and... to Gwen."

"You're welcome," Merlin replied as he left the room at last.

* * *

Author's note: Court jesters _were_ considered valuable advisers, because they were the only ones allowed - by law - to speak their mind truthfully in the face of the King - for the sake of comedy, naturally - without fear for their lives.


	22. Chapter 22: Motives

**Chapter 22: Motives**

As Merlin was about to cross the castle's gates leisurely to get back inside, he took a hurried step aside just in time to avoid being trampled by two horses heading the other way. He stopped to watch them galloping towards the skyline. Messengers or scouts, probably. They'd kept coming and going all night and morning.

Merlin wasn't aware of everything going on at the moment - he hadn't seen Arthur since the wedding day - but he knew Uther, Arthur and Sir Leon were currently busy preparing a battle plan. From what some of the knights had told him, they were likely to leave for war the next morning to join the troops that had remained on the Eastern front.

While he walked across the courtyard, Merlin looked straight ahead of him, hoping to avoid having to look at the still smoking stake standing in the middle of the place. Early that morning, only a day after the wedding, the fate of the one sorcerer they had managed to catch had been sealed.

He averted his eyes when he walked past it. He had recognised the man who had poisoned him the previous day when they had taken him to the stake, but he hadn't stayed to watch. The knowledge that this man was paying for his crimes didn't provide him any satisfaction or relief.

Merlin entered the laboratory and put the bag he'd been carrying down on the table. "There, enough tansy supply for a year! No more shortage!" he declared to Gaius.

"Good, now give me a hand to finish preparing those salves," his tutor requested.

Merlin settled next to him, picked up a ladle, and proceeded to pour Gaius' mixture into one vial after the other. They would distribute those healing balms to the soldiers before they left.

"I still don't understand why Colgrin bothered to pretend he wanted peace," Merlin stated while sealing one of the bottles with a cork, "and kept a low profile for a whole month just to marry his daughter to Arthur, that didn't win him anything..."

Gaius shrugged. "He _did_ almost manage to kill Uther and Arthur after the ceremony."

"I know," Merlin agreed, "but was it really worth all this trouble? There are easier ways to kill people, that wouldn't require him putting himself in the front line... He could have been caught before he managed to flee... That wasn't very bright..."

Gaius smiled at him with the kindness and forbearance a wiser man usually saved for a naive, ignorant child. "Oh, on the contrary, it was incredibly clever of him," he countered. "You see, had Colgrin's plan succeeded, after the death of the King and the Crown Prince, Angharad would have become the only heir's widow. As a woman, she can't claim the throne herself, but her father would have the legal right to exert a regency in her name."

Merlin paled. "You mean Colgrin could have legitimately become Camelot's new King?"

"Exactly. And all without a fight. Incredibly clever, I tell you. His cousin Octha would never have managed to devise such a crafty plan..." Gaius continued, looking both pensive and impressed. "I wonder if he had all of this in mind from the start, when he met Arthur, or if it came along the way..."

"But this is... despicable!" Merlin exclaimed, utterly revolted. "He gets all the Royal family killed and then he's handed the crown?"

"Ah, well, of course, if the conspiracy hadn't been uncovered, he would never have been accused of that crime, only the sorcerers who had perpetrated it..." Gaius pointed out.

Merlin clenched his fists with anger. "No one would have ever accepted him as King," he stated.

"Politics aren't as simple as that. Many people from the court would have followed Colgrin, out of pure personal interest. But I'm sure many knights would have contested his authority, out of loyalty for the Pendragon family. They would certainly have opposed his getting the rulership, and attempted to rally people behind them."

"Exactly!" Merlin agreed. "We would have fought him and thrown him out!"

"But without a legitimate successor to the throne to agree on, there could be no unity between the knights, and such an attempt would be bound to fail... It would soon have turned into both a civil and succession war..." Gaius continued. "Separatists clans would probably have appeared... And all of this would have benefited Colgrin. Even with a contested reign, it's easier to conquer a divided Kingdom than one united against him..."

Merlin suddenly realised how Camelot could have become. A disliked King. Chaos. Renewed hostility against magic users, who had killed the previous King and the Crown Prince...

"I can't believe those sorcerers let themselves be dragged into this by Colgrin," he said. "I've been to those gatherings, most of the people there are kind, curious. They just want to live with their gift like any normal person, and seek only to find companionship through those meetings."

"Charming young people like yourself, for the most part, I'm sure," Gaius agreed. "But they're left to their own devices. They lack a direction, a guidance to channel the energy produced by this rather laudable effort."

Merlin nodded. They probably didn't have a mentor figure, like he had Gaius. At times in the past, he had considered Gaius' influence and restrictions regarding his magic a little smothering. He was now beginning to realise how lucky he'd been to have Gaius. Maybe his tutor's advices had been the only thing standing between him and, perhaps, a darker path, he mused with a fleeting thought for Morgana.

"Who knows what Colgrin offered those four to work for him," Gaius continued. "It would be easy to mislead a handful of those young, ignorant people."

Merlin poured the remainder of the preparation in one last vial and added a cork in silence.

"You should go deliver this batch to the barracks while I start preparing more," Gaius requested. "You can never have too much healing salve..."

"I'll go right away," Merlin agreed. While he picked up all the vials carefully to store them in a crate, he spoke up again: "Gaius, when Arthur leaves for the battlefield tomorrow, I'll go with him. I don't know if I'll be any help, but I feel too implicated in this to just stand in the back and watch."

"I understand," Gaius stated as he gave him a fatherly pat on the shoulder. "But be extremely careful."

Melin carried the crate away and headed for the barracks. He had overheard some knights a few hours earlier, discussing the upcoming battle, and they had seem to be dreading it. One of them – though an experienced warrior – had even declared having a bad feeling about it.

Merlin suddenly froze in the middle of the corridor and retraced his steps back to the troubling detail that had caught his attention. He put the crate on the ground and examined the wall more closely, sliding his hand along the space between the stones, until he found what he'd been looking for, a foot above the floor. A piece of fabric stuck between the stones.

In an instant, he knew how the sorcerers had gotten in and out of the castle unnoticed. And saying this realisation angered him was a huge understatement. He was downright furious.

Completely forgetting about his delivery, Merlin stormed away. The attempts on the lives of the entire Royal family, Gaius' predictions about what could have happened, Arhur's thinking he had made some mistake in the security measures, Gwen's departure, the now inevitable war, all of this was swirling in his head when he irreverently slammed a door open.

Inside her chambers, Morgana turned to him. "Merlin!" she exclaimed with outrage. "Have you forgotten how to knock?"

"Are you happy with yourself?" he snapped at her.

Morgana looked abashed. "I beg your pardon?"

"Can you still look at yourself in a mirror after what you did?" Merlin questioned.

Morgana pursed her lips. "Get out this instant or I call the guards."

"Good idea! Call the guards so I can tell them what a traitor you are!"

"Merlin, are you drunk?"

"I wish!"

"If you're not, then try making some sense!"

"The secret tunnel, Morgana!" he exclaimed. "The one known only to the Royal family that leads out of the castle and to the forest! The one Arthur trustingly showed us a few months ago! Does it ring any bell?"

Morgana remained silent, but she had paled a little.

"It was opened recently, and I would bet that's how the sorcerers who attacked yesterday got in and out. But then who told them about the existence of the tunnel, and who opened it for them? It wasn't me, it wasn't Gwen, and it certainly wasn't Arthur. It was _you_, Morgana. _You_ let them in," he accused.

"You're wrong," Morgana denied weakly.

"Did it come up when you visited Colgrin? Did he request your help in exchange of that asylum for people with magic you wanted? Did you know he was planning to kill Uther? And Arthur?"

"No, I didn't know about Arthur!" she claimed.

This fuelled Merlin's anger even more. Her denial of this small detail was a confession for everything else. "Were you also his liaison with the four conspirators when you met with them at the gatherings?"

Morgana became livid. "How do you -"

"I was there, Morgana!" he almost shouted. "I saw you, talking to them!"

"If you were there, that would mean -"

"That I have magic too?" he interrupted sharply. "Yes. Why I never told you before? I don't know, I was probably scared to. And right now I'm rather glad I never did, because I could have ended like that poor man on the stake," he continued, pointing at the window. "And I hope you feel at least a little guilty for his death because -"

"Shut up," she cut in.

"No, I won't shut up!" he nearly yelled. "I'm tired of finding excuses for your behaviour! That's enough! Take responsibility!" he scolded her, and paused briefly. "I'll give you one last chance," he continued on a slightly calmer tone. "You have until tonight to go to Arthur and tell him you're the one who let those sorcerers in."

"Or?" she asked between gritted teeth.

"Or I swear I denounce you to the King myself," he menaced before turning on his heels.

"He will never believe you," Morgana stated.

Merlin turned to face her one last time on the doorstep. "Would you bet your life on this?"

* * *

Coming next: Chapter 23 "Men of Valour"


	23. Chapter 23: Men of Valour

**Chapter 23: Men of Valour**

Arthur rubbed his eyes discreetly and stifled a yawn while his father and Sir Leon continued to discuss the battle plans. He had barely slept all night, he was so tired...

"With the reinforcements we should get from the North, we should have around a thousand men," Sir Leon summed up.

"According to our latest reports, the Saxon troops stationed in the East are around three hundred men," Uther added. "With the group moving to join with them, their numbers should rise up to five hundred. The thousand men we're sending will be sufficient. We can't afford to send more, anyway."

"There is one minor problem left, my Lord," Sir Leon began. "The wounded from the reinforcement coming from the Northern front. We'll be three units leaders short."

"Then let's add one or two men to each unit," Arthur suggested. "With a little reorganisation, it shouldn't be any trouble."

"But then we'd have three less units to deploy," Uther pointed out," and we'd have to adapt our strategies as well. No, we should call for the help of some of our veteran knights."

Arthur nodded. That was a good idea. There were several knights who had retired from active military duty, but who were still young enough for battle.

Just as Sir Leon left the room to send some messengers, a scout entered hurriedly. "My Lords," he began. "We found three young men's bodies a couple of miles away East of the castle," he informed them.

"Our three missing traitors, I wager," Uther told Arthur with despise once the scout was gone. "Colgrin didn't lose time before getting rid of them."

Leaving his daughter and his men to the mercy of his enemy, now killing his accomplices... What sort of a man was Colgrin? Arthur wondered. How could he have ever trusted him?

Arthur snapped out of his thoughts when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked up to see his father's concerned eyes.

"Arthur, you're exhausted. You should go get some rest."

"No, there's still a lot to plan before I leave tomorrow."

"And once you do, you won't have the chance to rest before a long time. Sir Leon and I will take care of everything left. I do not want to see you killed on the battlefield because you were too tired to fight properly. Go rest now. This is an order."

"Yes Sire," Arthur agreed reluctantly and left obediently.

He hated when his father did that. Hiding one of his too rare fatherly attentions behind a military command.

When he reached the Royal chambers level, he found Morgana pacing nervously in front of his door.

"Arthur, I've been waiting for you for hours!" she exclaimed as soon as she spotted him. She seemed extremely troubled.

"What's going on?"

Morgana checked the guards whereabouts from the corner of her eyes. "Can we talk inside?"

"Of course," Arthur agreed as he invited her in.

When Morgana left ten minutes later after her revelations, Arthur was amazed at how nothing surprised him any more. He gave out a few orders to have the secret tunnel walled up as soon as possible. The Saxons wouldn't use it again. On the other hand, no one from the castle would be able to use it to escape a siege - as was its initial purpose...

Once everything was set into motion, he allowed himself to return to his chambers, collapse on his bed, and close his eyes. He fell asleep almost instantaneously.

* * *

Arthur woke up abruptly to the sound of a knock on his door.

"My Lord," someone called urgently.

A quick look towards the window to check the position of the sun in the sky informed him he had been asleep only one or two hours. He got up in a jump and went to open the door. "What is it?" he asked the messenger.

"My Lord, we received the answers from Sir Aldrich and Sir Irwin. They say you can count on their presence for the battle, they're leaving right away."

"Good. What about Sir Burdan?"

"His spouse let's you know he has unfortunately been confined to bed for the last two weeks because of a lung fever, and isn't in any condition to fight."

The messenger took his leave with a quick bow.

Two out of three veteran knights had agreed to come, Arthur summed up as he watched the messenger walk away. Not bad. But they were still one unit leader short.

His gaze fell on the many soldiers guarding Angharad's door down the hall. Way more than was necessary. No one had probably bothered to explain the current situation to the poor woman. He was almost sure she had spent the whole night and day in the dark, wondering what was happening and why she was being locked up like this.

He walked towards the door resolutely. No matter what his father said, technically they _were_ married. If _he_ didn't give her an explanation, no one would.

The guards let him inside without asking any question. As soon as he stepped in, Angharad stood up from where she was sitting. She was looking at him with a mix of relief and dread. Her eyes were red and puffy from a probable combination of crying and sleep deprivation.

"What's going on? Why do I have to stay here?" she demanded.

"Are the guards treating you well?" Arthur enquired.

She shrugged. "They brought me some food, but no one will tell me anything..." Her tone was pleading.

Arthur nodded. He took a deep breath while he thought of the best way to break out the information to her. He found none. "Your father hired sorcerers to kill me and the King," he finally said. "He escaped and returned to the front. There's going to be a war."

Angharad shook her head. "I swear I had absolutely no idea he had anything like this in mind."

"I believe you," Arthur assured her, and paused. "Last night, the King was so furious he wanted to have you and all the Saxons we caught executed right away."

Angharad paled brutally.

"But I managed to talk him out of it," he continued, "thanks to our... current status."

She mechanically looked down to her wedding ring.

"However, considering the terms of the peace treaty we signed with your father were clearly violated and never intended to be respected, the King has decided he would declare our wedding null and void."

Angharad's facial expression shifted at this announcement, but Arthur didn't manage to interpret it.

"We currently have more pressing matters at hand, so it will take a few days to be ratified. And once it is, I won't be able to protect you any more."

"But I didn't do anything..." she muttered, her eyes filling with tears.

"I know," Arthur answered quietly. "Maybe after the battle, if we come back victorious, his wrath will be appeased, and he'll be in a more clement mood..."

"Victorious. You mean if my father..." She didn't finish her sentence.

If her father was killed, Arthur completed mentally.

"So I get used as a bargaining chip, discarded, and no matter what I do, I lose?"

Arthur could hear a life-long bitterness in her voice. "I'm sorry," he said softly.

"Where is Peredur? Is he still alive?"

"He's in the dungeons with the other Saxons."

"He's going to hang with them all, right?"

Arthur remained silent. It was more of a statement than an actual question.

"Can I see him?"

"You know you can't. You're not allowed out of this room."

"This is unfair. He's a good man. He's the only person who cared after me all these years while my father and brothers were constantly away at war. He doesn't deserve this," she finished in a whisper and turned away from him. "Please, I would like to be alone now."

Without a word, Arthur complied and left her room.

She was right. All of this was entirely unfair. And as he thought about it, something suddenly clicked in his mind. Something that could make things a little more right.

Arthur hurtled down the stairs all the way to the dungeons, stormed inside, snatched the keys from a guard and entered Peredur's cell. He stood in front of the young man, who was sitting on the ground and looking up at him silently as if he didn't know what to expect.

"What are your values?" Arthur asked him right away.

"What?" Peredur exclaimed with surprise.

"When you fight, what do you fight for?" he insisted.

The other man shrugged. "Honour, justice..."

"Are you capable of leading a unit of fifty soldiers?"

"With my eyes closed..." he answered with a frown.

"And with your eyes open, can you lead them to victory?"

Peredur now seemed completely lost. "What are you getting at?"

"Are you loyal to your King?"

Peredur hesitated for a few seconds. "I'm loyal to my heart and to those who respect me," he finally declared.

Arthur nodded. He had guessed it right. Peredur's loyalty wasn't for Colgrin, it had never been. And after Colgrin's betrayal and his leaving Angharad behind, it could never be.

"Would you be loyal to me if I asked you to?"

Peredur stared at him with round eyes, completely speechless. He clearly didn't understand.

"Would you trust me enough to follow my orders blindly?" Arthur went on.

"What are you..." Peredur mumbled and shook his head. "I don't..."

"There's going to be a great battle against the Saxons. We need every skilled and trustworthy soldier we can find." He paused. "Fight alongside me," he enjoined.

The young man looked at him with surprise, and possibly a little defiance. "Is this some sort of joke?"

"After what happened yesterday, believe me, I don't have the time nor the will to _joke_," Arthur assured him. "It is only a matter of hours before my marriage to Princess Angharad is officially declared null and void. I'm giving you a chance to redeem your family's name by proving your valour to the crown of Camelot. I suppose Colgrin may have promised you the same in the past, but _I_ am a man of my word. This is no promise in the wind. Fight alongside me, and when this is over you will have your title and lands back."

Peredur stared into space as he probably envisioned what Arthur was offering. Everything he had always dreamt of, including what he needed to suitably court the noble woman he loved. The corner of his lips outlined a smile. Peredur's usually insolent look Arthur had grown accustomed to - the one he had recently identified as misplaced rivalry - was completely gone, replaced by... what, hope?

"The King will never let a Saxon -"

"Let _me_ deal with the King," Arthur interrupted. "So what do you say? Can I count on you? Will you fight alongside me?"

Peredur stood up. In his eyes, Arthur could see the same gleam he saw in the eyes of these promising young men when his father dubbed them. Pride and inspiration.

"It will be my honour."

* * *

Coming next: Chapter 24 "Farewells"


	24. Chapter 24: Farewells

**Chapter 24: Farewells**

Merlin had spent the entire evening dreading the worst, fearing Morgana would betray him and his secret after his lightning revelations by reporting him to the King, possibly in an attempt to protect hers. Countless times, he had imagined guards appearing from behind the corner, coming to seize him and drag him to the stake while it was still hot from the morning's execution.

But despite his apprehensions, he never regretted a word. It felt like a huge weight was taken off his shoulders. He had actually _told_ someone. He felt... relieved, in a way. Like his secret wasn't his responsibility any more. Even if it was now in the hands of Morgana, after he had openly menaced her.

He was still amazed at how naturally he had told her, though. After all these years trying to hide it, wondering how he could ever announce it, and especially after experiencing a foretaste of what her reaction would be - an angry one - it had been so easy...

But in the end, when passing by the entrance to the secret tunnel, he had seen a group of men busy walling it up. He had concluded Morgana must have decided to agree to his bargain and had told Arthur about her implication. It had quite surprised him, to say the least. He hadn't expected it, but he was glad she had. It would have sickened him if he'd had to denounce her to Uther, he would have hated himself for it. But it had been a genuine menace. He _would_ have done it.

However, he couldn't begin to understand how Morgana could have been manipulated by Colgrin like this, so easily. She was a strong woman, who knew what she wanted and wasn't scared to go to great lengths in order to achieve it. Even if he knew she wouldn't hesitate to go against the King's will to reach her goals, and even if he could understand that on some level, what her actions had allowed was way too extreme for him to do nothing about it.

It was now the dawn of a new day, and they were all about to leave for the battlefield: himself, Arthur, and a large contingent of knights and other soldiers.

Gaius took him in his arms in a very fatherly hug. "Be extremely careful, my boy."

"You're saying that just because my mother would kill you if anything happened to me," Merlin teased, slightly embarrassed by this display of affection.

"No... _practise_ in front of anybody," Gaius slipped in his ear.

Merlin smiled at Gaius' concern. But he already knew that if at some point he felt like giving a hand in the confrontation, he would have to make sure no one saw him practise magic. "Don't worry, I _will_ be careful," he assured him.

Merlin parted from Gaius and turned round. He saw Arthur saying his farewells to his father. According to what Gaius had explained to him after he had voiced his surprise at Uther's apparent lack of implication in the upcoming battle, both King and Crown Prince couldn't go, lest they put the crown in danger - in case something happened to them both.

Arthur seemed to have regained the upper hand after being so down two days before. He now looked motivated and confident, as bucked up as he usually was.

Morgana was there too, waiting her turn to bid farewell to Arthur. Merlin's eyes met with hers. He didn't manage to read her gaze and determine her feelings towards him after their confrontation.

He suddenly wondered what she had told Arthur exactly regarding her implication in the sorcerers' attack. No matter what she had said, he seemed to have taken it well, considering the way they were hugging. She couldn't have told him the full truth, he guessed. But there would be plenty of time to take stock of the situation after the battle, he thought, setting aside any concern he had.

While he observed the knights waiting to leave, Merlin was surprised to find Peredur, sporting Camelot's red colours, among them. How and when had that happened? Wasn't he a Saxon? Merlin followed Peredur's gaze to a higher point in the castle. There, he saw Angharad, watching the courtyard from what he assumed was her chambers' window. Merlin shook his head with incomprehension, aware that he was missing something there.

As the knights departed one after the other to take the road, each stepped in front of the King to take a quick bow before moving on. In return, Uther gave them a nod.

When they all left the castle and walked down the city's streets, many villagers had come to watch their going, forming a sort of guard of honour all the way to the city's gates. News travelled fast...

This vision warmed Merlin's heart. Did it always feel like that when you were a knight? This strange impression you were important, _somebody_, with people counting on you through their silent recognition and gratitude?

Their journey was rather uneventful. Usually, when travelling, the knights talked among themselves, joked a little, but this time they were remarkably calm and silent. Merlin could almost feel the overall stress and tension. He remained mostly on his own, as Arthur was constantly busy conferring with Sir Leon or with the scouts coming and going every once and then.

They arrived at the front shortly after nightfall. When they reached the top of a hill, Merlin brought his horse to a halt and looked ahead of him with bewilderment. At the bottom of the hill's other side, he beheld the camp, spread across acres of plain while all the knights and soldiers in his party continued their way past him.

The camp was huge, filled with life and activity. Hundreds of tents had sprouted up like mushrooms, lined up in an unnatural, organised arrangement. Torches were driven in the ground at regular intervals, marking the boundaries of what looked like alleys, drawing what appeared as an array of geometrical figures from his current vantage point.

In the darkness of sundown, several miles away on the other side of the valley, one could perceive the lights coming from the enemy's camp.

This was breathtaking, and rather humbling. This didn't compare with anything he had known or taken a part to until then. He was suddenly becoming aware of the extent of what was in the making. This realisation made his stomach tie up in knots.

He saw Arthur ride back up the hill towards him, looking at him with an amused smile.

"Come on," Arthur invited with a wave of his hand. "Don't stay exposed like this alone on top of the hill, someone might think you were a Saxon spy and you'd end up with an arrow through your head..."

"Huh?" Merlin exclaimed, a little too loudly, while trying to spot any archer nearby.

This prompted Arthur to give a laugh while he headed back down the hill. Merlin urged his horse forward to catch up with him - at least _someone_ seemed to feel completely in his element...

Once they had dismounted and left their horses at the camp's entrance with all the others, Merlin followed Arthur through the alleys, in the middle of all this buzzing activity. When Arthur headed away to talk to someone – who had responsibilities regarding the camp, apparently - Merlin observed all those bustling about.

They were clearly all soldiers. Even the aides-de-camp installing everything and preparing the food were young aspiring knights.

What was he doing there? he wondered brusquely. This wasn't his place... Had he been too presumptuous, thinking he could be of some use?

A sudden and violent jolt in his shoulder brought him back to reality.

"Hey, don't stay in the way, lad."

"Oh, sorry," Merlin apologised and immediately stepped aside to watch a huge man carrying heavy-looking loads advance past him.

Everything here was already so organised... Everyone seemed to know where they were supposed to go, where they were supposed to stay, what they were supposed to do. But _he _had no actual military training. He had no idea about any of those.

Like a child lost in a crowd, he felt compelled to remain close to Arthur while he started walking through the soldiers again.

"Merlin, my tent isn't going to get pitched on its own..." the Prince soon commented.

"Your tent, certainly, Sire," Merlin agreed with a nod, but gave glances around with confusion.

Arthur tapped on his shoulder to get his attention. "Over there," he indicated with amusement.

"Yes, of course..." Merlin concurred as he trotted off.

* * *

Author's note: shortish, transitional chapter, but it had to be done! More will happen in chapter 25 "All help available"


	25. Chapter 25: All Help Available

**Chapter 25: All Help Available**

Arthur looked over the map once more.

"The best course of action remains to wait for Colgrin to attack first," Sir Leon commented.

"He should already have attacked," Arthur stated. "We chose to take the time to prepare a strategy before coming to the front. He arrived two days ahead of us, he could have seized this opportunity to further his troops' progression. But instead they're not moving..." He sighed. "It's like they're waiting for something..."

"Colgrin could be waiting for us to attack first," Leon suggested.

"He's here for territorial conquest, he'll want to attack first..." Arthur paused. "I don't like this. Send more scouts to check the Saxons' positions and see if we missed something."

"Right away, Sire," Sir Leon agreed with a nod and left his tent.

Arthur decided to go through the camp to review the troops while he waited for the scouts' reports. The men were preparing, cleaning and polishing their armours, sharpening their swords, practising attack and defence manoeuvres.

Everything seemed in order. They would be ready to fight the second Colgrin decided to attack.

Arthur acknowledged Peredur with a nod as he walked past him. He seemed to have found his place and the necessary authority to maintain his men under his orders despite his former allegiance to Colgrin – they had seen him fight at the tournament, they knew his worth.

A couple of hours later, Arthur saw Leon marching towards him with a grave look.

"Any news from the scouts?" Arthur asked.

"Yes," Leon confirmed. "But I'd rather talk to you back in your tent, I don't want to alarm the men..."

Arthur nodded. This didn't sound good...

* * *

Merlin entered Arthur's tent at the same time Sir Leon left it. Inside, he found Arthur, pacing back and forth all around the tent, looking worried and downcast.

"Is there anything wrong?" Merlin queried immediately.

Arthur stopped pacing to look at him. "I'm going to have to sound the retreat," he said gravely.

"Retreat? Why?"

"Because we're going to be massacred... We have to get back to Camelot to protect the city the best we can."

"But all the soldiers are here and ready! Why turn around now?"

"Sir Leon just informed me our scouts spotted three other groups of Saxon soldiers about to join their main troops. Reinforcement," Arthur explained. "That will bring their numbers to nearly two thousands, almost twice as much as we are..."

"And... is that a big difference?" Merlin asked naively.

"Two to one?" Arthur shrugged. "Twenty against forty, I might attempt it. But a thousand against two... It's suicidal..."

Merlin observed Arthur as he started pacing again. He wasn't used to seeing the Prince display such defeatism. "It would be a pity to turn back now, after all those efforts. Surely there must be some sort of... miraculous strategy for victory?"

"A miraculous strategy for victory?" Arthur repeated. "If there was one, I'd know it. Ever since I've been old enough to read, I've been studying every military handbook, all written by the greatest strategists in History. Even the Romans, who used to have the finest, biggest, most organised armies in the world, wouldn't manage that. The difference is too important. We can't win this."

He paused briefly. He had a weary look on his face.

"So we're going to sound the retreat, and bring everyone back to Camelot to protect the city. The Saxons will further their progression, ravage the East of the Kingdom," Arthur continued with bitterness, "but we'll be waiting for them behind the fortifications. There, we may have a chance..."

His gaze became distant and pensive.

"With more archers in support, and part of the troops surprising them with an attack from the rear..."

Merlin could see in Arthur's eyes he was already elaborating a new strategy.

Arthur frowned and shook his head. "We won't manage to keep the civilians out of this..."

"I think I can help," Merlin declared out of the blue.

Arthur sighed tiredly. "Look, that's very... nice of you to offer, I suppose. But no matter what you think you may be capable of doing, I'm pretty sure you can't be worth a thousand men all by yourself."

"No, probably not," Merlin admitted. "But I can make each of your men worth two."

This statement got him Arthur's sudden and undivided attention. The Prince scrutinized him in silence, obviously waiting for him to go on.

"Off hand, I can think of at least a dozen ways to enhance a soldier's efficiency and protection," Merlin continued. "Shielding spells, potions of valour - "

"Don't be ridiculous," Arthur interrupted with a snort. "Valour is not something you can put in a bottle," he added on a derisive tone.

His smile froze when his eyes met Merlin's, and it finally vanished when he probably realised Merlin was very serious. He moved away and settled on his seat with a slightly faraway look.

"Shielding spells," Merlin started over, "potions of valour, flaming blades, swiftness... You name it. Some can be used beforehand, but others can be cast punctually, during the fight, when the need arises," he finished, and waited.

Arthur remained completely silent, still staring into space. Merlin wasn't sure he had listened at all.

"Arthur?"

Arthur didn't answer. Instead, he buried his face in his hands and took several deep breaths while shaking his head. Was he trying to make the decision?

This was taking way too long.

"You know, forget about it. This was a stupid idea," Merlin stated and turned on his heels.

"I don't want any potion of valour," Merlin suddenly heard behind him, "flaming blades or anything of the like. If my men are to win this battle, it will be thanks to their own skills. Any magic involved would have to remain nothing more than an additional help."

Merlin turned back, and found Arthur staring straight at him. The single fact that Arthur hadn't immediately voiced a violent opposition to the possibility of resorting to magic and was even considering it both surprised Merlin and pleased him greatly.

"You'd have to be incredibly discreet," Arthur continued. "No one can know magic was used by Camelot while it is banished in the Kingdom. If anyone found out, it would..." he sighed once more and closed his eyes. Merlin realised he hadn't completely made up his mind yet. "Are you _sure_?" Arthur asked as he opened his eyes again. "Are you sure you can do as you say?"

"Well, I'm confident it's possible to -"

"Merlin, we're talking about the fate of the whole Kingdom here," Arthur reminded on a scolding tone. "I'm not asking you to be confident, I'm asking you to be _sure_. If you're not sure, I'm not taking that risk."

Arthur was right, of course. No single mistake was allowed, the consequences would be too dramatic. As he realised brutally the responsibilities that would be weighing on his sole shoulders, Merlin was overcome by a sudden wave of doubt. He whispered: "I don't know."

"Come on, focus!" Arthur insisted. "Picture yourself tomorrow, during the battle, hidden somewhere, while our thousand men fight the Saxons. Do you see yourself capable of handling all of them to do what you suggested?"

Merlin swallowed uneasily. He hadn't given it that much thought. He visualized hundreds of soldiers, running all over the place to fight... The camp was already huge, how large would the battlefield be?

And then, all of a sudden, he saw it. What he was supposed to do. It all made perfect sense... "Not alone," he finally admitted.

"That's what I thought," Arthur concluded. "I'll go ask to sound the retreat."

Merlin stopped him before he left the tent. "But if I can rally others, others like me, then yes, I'm sure."

"Others like - are you out of your mind?" Arthur exclaimed. "I'm probably crazy enough to even consider for a single second to let _you_ do something, and you want to bring _others_?"

"Yes!" Merlin exclaimed. "I know where to find them, I can meet with them tonight!"

"At the same place you met with the conspirators?" Arthur guessed. "Of course! Great idea!" he added ironically.

"Not all are like this, and some will be ready to help!" Merlin insisted. "Give me - give _us_ the opportunity to show you that we're not as fundamentally evil as we're said to be, and that on the contrary we can be an asset to the Kingdom."

Arthur sighed. "You _are_ aware that if it doesn't work, we're all going to get slaughtered...?"

"It will work," Merlin stated with enthusiasm. "I know it, I can feel it, I..." He sighed. "Do you trust me?"

Arthur's hesitation irritated him.

"You have trusted me implicitly more times than I can count," Merlin continued. "Trust me once knowingly," he concluded vehemently.

He watched the inner battle in Arthur's eyes.

"You'd better not be wrong..." the Prince finally said.

* * *

Coming next: Chapter 26 "The Makings of Leaders"


	26. Chapter 26: The Makings of Leaders

**Chapter 26: The Makings of Leaders**

Everything was going so fast... It felt like it was only the day before that Arthur found out about his magic, and now he was knowingly allowing him to use it and even to bring others to help him along...

Merlin almost couldn't believe it. Overexcitement made his heart beat wildly while he assembled feverishly all the ingredients he needed to summon a sorcerers' gathering. They were those he had found in Morgana's drawer – a browsing of his magic book later on had confirmed their likely effect.

The mixture was ready. All he needed now was the final spell: "_Gelathian Freond Holt_," he muttered.

The potion glowed a dim orange, then vanished suddenly. It was done. There would be a gathering that night.

During the few hours left before sundown, he attended to his usual occupations back at the camp until, discreetly, he slipped away into the forest.

He was the first to arrive at the gathering. One after the other, he was joined by warlocks and witches, some he remembered seeing before, some he had never met. As usual, groups of discussion formed naturally.

Merlin waited until no one seemed to be arriving any more, and walked slightly away from the groups.

"Erm, everyone, can I have your attention please?" he called in a loud and clear voice.

All ongoing conversations suddenly stopped and all heads turned towards him. In one glance, he embraced the dozens of figures all staring at him. There were puzzled looks, and many interrogative whispers among them.

They were waiting. Now all he had to do was find the right words to convince them to come. But how was he supposed to do that? He had never talked in public like this before...

Merlin gulped uneasily while the other sorcerers began to show signs of impatience.

"So, what do you have to say?" one even pushed.

It didn't matter, Merlin reasoned. He would say it as it came.

"My name is Merlin, and I'm a servant at the castle, at the service of Prince Arthur," he said. "I summoned this gathering because I need your help."

The crowd's curiosity slowly turned into protest.

"What are you doing?"

"This is not the way!"

"No names, no identity!"

Merlin spoke louder to cover the rumour. "There's going to be a war with the Saxons soon, but -"

"I thought there was peace now!" someone interrupted.

"No, the Saxons breached the peace treaty," Merlin answered. "Camelot's troops won't be enough to stop them. We must give them a hand to defeat the Saxons."

The protest turned into outrage.

"What?"

"Are you crazy?"

"What has this Kingdom ever done for us, except hunt and kill us? Why should we help?"

After this question, the crowd fell silent, as if they were all asking Merlin what he had to answer to that.

"Because otherwise Camelot will lose this war and fall to the Saxons."

"Camelot has survived the last decades without us, and now all of a sudden it needs us?"

Merlin noticed the remark came from the same young man who had asked the previous question.

"This is our chance to show the Kingdom it should make do with us instead of trying to get rid of us!"

The other warlock snorted loudly. "We don't owe them anything. They'll forget about us the second they've won," he stated, and began to walk away.

Merlin watched, helpless, as others followed him.

"Wait, don't go!" he hailed. "Isn't that what those gatherings are for? Finding ways to make life easier for people like us?"

"That doesn't involve getting killed for Uther, the one who banned us in the first place," one of those leaving claimed. "Another was burned only a couple of days ago."

"Because he had allied with the Saxon King, not because of his magic!" Merlin countered. "Doesn't any of you want to change things? Show the Kingdom who we really are? I'm not asking you to do it for Uther but for yourselves!"

The sorcerers kept leaving one after the other. He had to find a way to make them stay. But he could think of none. It was his mistake, he hadn't anticipated exactly how reluctant they would be to help those who were their persecutors.

Powerless, he watched them walk away one by one, disappointed with himself. He had promised Arthur he would bring others, and he was failing.

And then, when he thought everyone was gone, he noticed a handful were still there, waiting in the darkness. His heart racing, he walked towards them, and smiled when he recognised the first of them.

"Elias," he greeted as he extended his arm to shake the other young man's hand. "I thought you said you wouldn't come to those gatherings again?"

Elias shrugged. "Well, I don't know, I felt this one was going to be special..."

"Thanks for staying," Merlin said and moved to the next.

He recognised the witch as well, she was a petite woman in the first group he'd joined at his very first gathering.

"Did you truly see an Afanc?" she asked.

"Yes," he confirmed.

"I'm Berlewen," she said and shook his hand too.

As Merlin moved to the others, he noticed they were all sorcerers he had shared stories with during a gathering.

"Fendrel," a young man introduced himself.

"Kay," another said.

"Mildgyth."

"Garridan."

Merlin's heart was filled with warmth and, to his own surprise, pride. All these people had agreed to stay and fight for Camelot because _he_ had asked them to.

He finally reached the last of them, who removed the hood that had been up the entire time, revealing her face. Merlin's smile instantly vanished.

"What are you doing here?" he demanded coldly.

"Taking responsibility, like you suggested," Morgana - for it was her - answered.

"You should go," Merlin enjoined. "You already told Arthur like I asked you to."

"I didn't tell Arthur everything, only that I had been using the tunnel for personal use and might have left it open doing so. And you don't know half the truth about what I did."

Where was this confession coming from? Merlin wondered. Had his ultimatum and his own confession about his powers - on which she still hadn't commented - triggered some sort of consciousness over her actions? "Then what is it you did?"

Morgana gestured him to follow her a little away - she apparently didn't want to confide in front of all the others. After several steps, she spoke again.

"I didn't just let those sorcerers in, I recruited them for Colgrin myself," she revealed. "I summoned gathering after gathering to meet with them and discuss the plans prepared by Colgrin, until I had them meet with him for their final orders. I didn't intend what happened. Not all of it," she concluded.

Merlin was abashed to find out her full implication in the recent events. This was a thousand times worse than what he had imagined. Without her, Colgrin wouldn't have managed anything...

"Let me come with you fight the Saxons so that I can... make amends for what I did."

Merlin shook his head. She sounded genuinely sorry, but was she truly being honest or was she still spying for Colgrin? "How am I supposed to trust you after you told me all this?"

"Because you already trusted me with your secret?"

She was right, Merlin realised. She could have used this against him. But he was still unsure...

"Did someone ask you to ally with Colgrin?" he demanded.

It took her a half second too long to answer. "No," she finally whispered.

"Then who told you how to come to those gatherings, or how to summon them?"

Morgana remained silent. She didn't want to give an answer. And to Merlin, it was worse than one. He turned on his heels to walk back towards the other sorcerers without a word.

"Does it make any difference?" Morgana called behind him. "Would it change what I did, whether someone told me about the gatherings or I found out on my own? Would it be different if _you _were the one who had told me?"

Merlin could hear the reproach in the last sentence. He stopped and turned to face her again.

"I don't care if you don't agree with my opinions," Morgana spat. "I did what I did for good reasons, but I did it in a wrong way, I understand that now. All four of those sorcerers are dead, because of me, and this war, innocents are going to..." Her voice trailed off. "Let me come with you," she finished on an almost pleading tone.

Merlin stared at her disbelievingly. She had known from the start Colgrin wanted to kill Uther - he was willing to give her the benefit of the doubt concerning Arthur - and had agreed to it; could she really not see the wrong in her intentions?

However, for the first time, she was showing signs of remorse and guilt. Shouldn't he encourage her in that direction, instead of cutting short that spark of conscience by rejecting her help?

"All right," he finally agreed, wondering how long it would take for him to regret his choice.

* * *

"_This_ is your army?"

The disappointment in Arthur's voice was unmistakable as he and Merlin observed the seven hooded sorcerers from a distance, unbeknown to them, in the woods close to the camp, after Merlin had returned with them from the gathering. It had been agreed it would be unwise to let them know Arthur was aware of their presence for the battle.

"I never said I'd bring an _army_," Merlin protested, "only a few others to help."

"To help do what, plough the battlefield?" Arthur spat and shook his head. "I can't believe I agreed to put the Kingdom's destiny in the hands of those... _peasants._"

The Prince's lack of confidence greatly offended Merlin. "Well if you really think we'll fail, then sound the retreat like you initially intended," he suggested on an upset tone.

"It's too late for retreat," Arthur stated. "The scouts spotted some minor movements among the enemy's troops, they're going to attack very soon now, probably early in the morning." He sighed as he watched the sorcerers again. "Are you _sure_ you can handle all of them?"

"Yes, they will do as I ask," Merlin assured with confidence, but made a mental note to keep a close eye on Morgana.

"Do we agree that there will be nothing detectable, no open attack, only invisible support for the soldiers?" Arthur demanded.

"I know you don't want any obvious intervention, but we could do so much more than just -"

"I said nothing detectable, Merlin!" Arthur scolded on the authoritative tone he usually used with his knights. "Nothing that could be identified as magic, this is critical! You can't be seen! If you can't get this into your head then it's no use attempting it!"

"Fine," Merlin capitulated in a whisper. "We're at your command, Sire."

"Good," Arthur acknowledged. "And if any of you is discovered, you're on your own," he added.

"That goes without saying," Merlin concurred. On their own, as always...

Arthur cast another look towards the group of sorcerers. "This is insane..." he muttered with defeatism. "Can you remind me how I agreed to this, exactly?"

"Remember when you said you wanted to make History?" Merlin began. "Then win this battle, allegedly lost without even being fought, one thousand against two, and it _will_ become a legend. People will remember it for centuries to come!"

Arthur was staring at him silently. "Are you trying to give _me_ a motivational speech?" he finally asked. "Because if you are, you should know this is the worst I've ever heard." He paused briefly then gestured Merlin to follow him. "Come with me, I'll show you on the map our troops positions for the battle, so we can decide how to deploy your... _special unit_."


	27. Chapter 27: Dux Bellorum

**Chapter 27: Dux Bellorum**

Merlin walked through the sleeping encampment in silence. He was very careful not to do anything that could attract the attention of any of the guards keeping watch over the camp. Discreetly, as he walked close to the soldiers while they slept, he bent next to one and refilled his water supply with one hand. Then, he let the other rest on the chain mail the soldier had discarded nearby.

Still cautious about the guards whereabouts, he muttered under his breath: "_Miht Awerian Wyrdan._" Once his spell was cast, he stood up and went on his way as casually as he had come.

As he continued to the next sleeping soldier, he cast a quick look around the camp. In the darkness, he could make out the silhouettes of the seven other sorcerers, all walking through the camp and doing as he was in order to cover the whole troops more quickly. He prayed that Morgana was as careful as she could be, and hoped no one would would recognise her – he could not imagine the scandal it would be if anyone found out the King's ward was there, not to mention if they saw her doing magic.

His gaze fell on Arthur, standing at the entrance of his tent, watching the camp with a worried look. No, not just worried, Merlin realised. There was also a hint of doubt.

Merlin remembered the time he'd spent with Arthur earlier as the Prince tried to explain to him the battle plans, the various manoeuvres, the meaning of the flag signals... Learning the flags had been easy, but everything else... Like all these military terms he'd heard before but never had to know what they meant exactly... As for the strategies, Merlin had to admit most of what Arthur had said was way over his head. But he hadn't mentioned anything, fearing it would give Arthur more reasons to doubt.

He was used to improvising, anyway... He would see what to do when the time came.

However, the whole time Arthur had spent explaining those things to him, he had sounded like he was trying to convince himself it could actually work. And even though Merlin wished Arthur had more confidence in this plan he had come up with, he couldn't blame him. He knew that agreeing to team up with sorcerers must feel like betraying his father to him: admitting sorcerers could be of help was synonymous of stating Uther's politics regarding magic all these years had been wrong. And Arthur might not be entirely ready for that – not yet anyway.

Merlin watched the Prince return into his tent, probably to get to sleep, eager to be able to do the same himself. The night would be short, and the next day would be long...

And then, he would show him. _They_ would show him.

* * *

Soon after sunrise the next morning, Arthur received fresh news from the scouts: the enemy was advancing. It was time: war would be upon them within an hour.

As he reviewed his troops, giving last minute instructions, checking everything was ready and in place, he saw in the distance Merlin and his... companions leaving camp to get into position, just like they had agreed the previous night.

He still couldn't believe he had treated Merlin like one of his units leaders, like a soldier and not just like a servant. He had given him crucial, confidential information about how Camelot's troops would be deployed, all the while trying to impart years of military training in only a half hour.

Absolutely insane.

Arthur finally moved to the front of the troops, assuming the leading position, as he should. From afar, he could see the Saxons getting nearer and nearer, inexorably. Soon, his men would be able to evaluate their numbers and find out how outnumbered they really were. If they thought for a single second he was sending them to a certain death, he would lose their trust, and the tiny chance they may still have to win this would be gone with it.

He turned back to face his men and talked to them, loud enough for hopefully all of them to hear.

"Gentlemen. I will not lie to you," he began solemnly. "Today's battle will not be an easy one. The Saxons have come in immense number, well prepared, armed and trained. Every one of us will have to give their best. But I have the conviction we _will_ prevail, because we have something that they don't. Something that will guide us to victory. The knowledge that _this_," he said while indicating the land around him with a wave of his arm, "is our home."

He paused, and watched his men waiting for him to go on in respectful and attentive silence.

"This is our _home_ we're defending today," he went on. "This, is where our families and friends live, and they're all counting on us to protect them. We can _not_ let them down! We can _not_ let those barbarians invade our country, and we will _not_!"

The crowd cheered its approval at his words.

"We will show them they are _not_ welcome here!"

There was another wave of cheers.

Arthur unsheathed his sword and raised it above his head. "For Camelot!"

The soldiers mirrored his gesture. "For Camelot!" they repeated as one man.

Filled with energy and with this very special mix of fear and excitement, dread and anticipation usually occasioned by an upcoming battle, Arthur turned towards their enemy once more. The Saxons had approached and were stopping, just out of the archers' range.

* * *

From his hiding place, Merlin listened to the clamour spreading among Camelot's ranks after Arthur's speech. He wished he knew how to do that, talking to crowds the way Arthur did. It seemed so easy for him, so natural... Well, then, of course, when you were Prince Arthur, people paid attention, they listened to you...

Merlin checked his fellow sorcerers' positions by scanning his surroundings. They had scattered across what would soon be a battlefield, and had taken advantage of the landscape and vegetation – bushes, rocks, trees, hills - to hide from any onlooker. As far as he could tell, they were all undetectable from any of the armies. He had attributed the central position, the most exposed and dangerous one, to himself, and left the more peripheral ones to his companions. After all, it was _his_ idea. If someone had to take the risk of ending in the heart of the fight, it had to be him.

He took a small stone out of his pocket and observed it in his open palm. It was dark, almost black, smooth and cold to the touch. All eight sorcerers had one with them. It had originally been Berlewen's idea – the witch had apparently helped a lot of isolated shepherds in the mountains with those.

"_Acwethan Freond Feor_," he muttered, and closed his fist around the stone.

Nothing notable seemed to happen.

"Can you all hear me?" he whispered to no one in particular, as he was alone.

A chorus of "yes" - seven of them actually – echoed in his head.

Merlin smiled. A device to contact distant people, this was so ingenious... "Good. Be ready. It won't be long now."

Indeed, it wouldn't, he thought. The Saxons were in sight, not very far from them. Currently, all eight sorcerers were hiding in no-man's-land, between both armies. He took a few deep breaths as his stress began to rise and his heartbeat increased.

Their fate would be sealed soon.

* * *

Arthur kept observing the enemy's troops ahead of them. For the moment, they were still immobile, but he remained on his guard. Behind lines and lines of Saxon soldiers, he made out the silhouette of King Colgrin, comfortably sitting on his horse, dispatching his men and his commanders.

With contempt, Arthur realised he would probably stay in the background and not even take a part in the upcoming battle, letting his men fight in his name like a weak and a coward would. The same coward who had abandoned his daughter and his men by fleeing when his treachery had been revealed.

_That_ was not the way Arthur intended to lead _his_ army. _He _would fight, alongside his men, like any leader should.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Sir Leon, standing ahead of the unit of fifty men he was leading, waiting for Arthur's instructions. A little farther was Peredur and his own men, as well as all the experienced knights entrusted with the lead of one of the army's units.

In the distance, Arthur saw the Saxon commanders giving orders to launch the attack under Colgrin's directives.

"Hold your positions!" he ordered in a shout, and raised his arm. "Archers, on my command!"

As he waited for the right moment while the Saxons kept running, reducing the space between both armies, a nagging voice at the back of his head kept reminding him their numbers, and how a victory was hanging to so little hope...

It was a leap of faith. It was now or never...

"Fire!"

* * *

Author's note: "Dux Bellorum" (the title of this chapter) is Latin for "Leader of Battles". In the earliest literary references to King Arthur, he's not actually called a King, but is instead described as a Dux Bellorum (at a time when the Roman empire was still predominant in western Europe).

Yes, I love this sort of silly trivia :-)

Coming Next: Chapter 28 "The Battle of Mount Badon, part 1"


	28. Chapter 28: The Battle of Mount Badon,p1

**Chapter 28: The Battle of Mount Badon, part 1**

Arrows started streaming from all directions as they were shot by both armies, trapping all sorcerers in the space between under a rain of the sharp projectiles.

Merlin stepped closer to the tree behind which he was hiding, hoping it would shield him from the arrows, and cursed profusely. He was angry. Among all those useless military things Arthur had bored him with to prepare him for battle, he had failed to mention they might get skewered before the fight actually began! No one may know he and the other sorcerers were there, but still! Half of these arrows came from Camelot's soldiers, and they were on the same side, for the love of -

A wave of arrows flew by in a hiss and stuck into the ground barely a few inches away from his feet. Stressed and a little panicked, he briefly cursed again. With the trees and vegetation, he couldn't even anticipate by seeing them arriving... And there were so many...

There _was_ something he could do, but he had promised Arthur he wouldn't resort to that... But would anyone notice if he did anyway?

Deciding he _had_ to do something before he or one of the other sorcerers got killed – possibly by the allied side - he closed his eyes and focused on his surroundings. In split seconds, he became suddenly aware of every single one of the arrows' thousand positions.

When he opened them again, his eyes were alight with the magic within him, and as he lifted his hands towards the sky, he knew the arrows would follow his command. When he lowered his arms in a swift movement, he sent all the arrows, coming from both sides, hurtling in one and the same direction: the Saxon army.

_That _ought to do some damage.

In the distance, he saw the soldiers growing nearer and nearer at an alarming speed, brandishing their swords, running towards the opposite troops with intimidating war cries. Within seconds, both armies filled the space between them until Merlin was surrounded.

The place was swarming with knights, battling with each other in the deafening clash of metal against metal. Merlin was now in plain view of anyone who dared pay attention, but thankfully, no one did.

That was his cue. If he was to help, now was the time.

"_Faellan Werod Grund_."

A Saxon soldier tripped and fell to the ground, leaving him exposed to the sword of a knight from Camelot.

"_Onweg Healm Treow_."

Another Saxon missed his target and swung his sword towards a tree, where it got stuck into the bark.

"_Braegen Freosan_."

A third Saxon froze suddenly, with the dazed look of someone who didn't remember what he was doing there.

"_Abreothan Cniht_."

A knight from Camelot evaded his opponent's attack by an inch.

Merlin smiled, rather happy with himself. He looked around, trying to identify his next target.

It might not be the first time he ended right in the middle of a battle like this, but it had never been among such a large crowd, displaying so much violence. They were all so full of energy and motivation and determination, he wasn't very eager to get out of his relatively hidden spot. Not out of cowardice, but because he knew that if he wanted to keep helping, he had to stay alive.

As he kept casting his spells here and there, each one following the previous quicker and quicker while all the knights continued to fight around him, he could hear the efforts of his comrades resonate in his head.

"_Weorpan Beam_."

"_Werian Fultum_."

"_Adilegian Acus_."

According to what he was hearing, they all seemed to be doing well. It was looking good. But he knew that isolate actions on single soldiers might not be enough to bring a true decisive help. He may have promised Arthur not to intervene openly, it was so frustrating to have to remain passive, while he could do so much...

And he couldn't help thinking, who would notice? How many times had he done it without drawing attention? Why should he restrain himself only because for once, someone actually knew he was doing something? Why couldn't he put _all_ his skills at the Kingdom's service?

And as he watched Camelot's knights around him fighting ferociously but a little overwhelmed by their enemy's numbers, he made his decision. In truth, he had only promised to do nothing that could be identified unequivocally as magic, right?

"_Aceorfan Fierd Thoden_!"

A strong gust of wind rose from the ground towards an incoming wave of Saxon soldiers, blinding some with dust, hindering the progression of others, but leaving all of them very vulnerable to the knights charging at them.

* * *

Arthur lunged toward a Saxon, fending off his attack, and stroke back with a swing to his neck. Footsteps behind him. He twirled around, elbowing another opponent in the stomach before running his sword through his chest.

Maybe it was just an impression, but his sword felt a little lighter than usual, making it easier to wield. Was that part of the magic Merlin had done the previous night?

He knocked down a Saxon with the pommel of his sword.

Colgrin had apparently made the mistake of not bringing enough archers: the flow of arrows coming from the Saxons had stopped well before both armies met, while Camelot's archers had kept firing until the last moment. It had given them an advantage during the first physical contacts, a small but non negligible one.

Using both blade and shoulders, dodging every attack, he made his way through the enemy's lines. The Saxons might be in greater numbers, it made them less quick to respond and more prone to hampering each other's progression. That was an advantage he could work with.

And there, in the middle of the raging fight, he saw it. Right ahead of him. A fail in the Saxons' defensive positions.

"There, in the breach! Quick!" he ordered his men with a wave of his arm.

His knights surged into the opening instantly, effectively pushing back their enemy's rows.

Arthur seized the opportunity to take a second to take a look at the overall situation, and to wipe the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. The southern flank seemed to be in control. The heart of the battle was fierce, but he could see no sign of Merlin or one of his friends. Perfect. May it remain that way.

From the corner of his eyes, he detected Saxon movements on the north side of the battlefield. They were trying to outflank them, he assumed. And they had to be stopped before they could encircle them.

"Raise the green and red flags!" he yelled behind him to the knight in charge of the communication flags, ordering the counter offensive manoeuvre.

Once he was sure his command had been taken into account, he took on a new opponent.

* * *

"_Fealan Nealles_."

A knight from Camelot, off balance, regained it miraculously, just in time to avoid his opponent's blade.

From the corner of his eyes, Merlin saw flags being raised back where he assumed Arthur and his men were.

Red and green, red and green... What did red and green stand for, again? North outflank? North... Which ones of them were positioned on the north of the battlefield?

"Mildgyth, Fendrel," he whispered, the communication stone still held firmly in his fist, "the Saxons are swerving towards you, you'll have to follow the movement to avoid being trapped."

"All right."

"Sure."

"Be careful," Merlin added. Then, he resumed casting spells around him, sometimes in mere support of Camelot's soldiers, sometimes in a more offensive way.

They were all so engrossed in the battle no one noticed his presence. It was almost too easy - and, he had to admit, he liked that surge of adrenaline provoked by the situation.

However, he didn't like the sudden wave of panic that washed through him when he turned round, only to find a blade headed straight at him. As time appropriately slowed down - some day, he should really learn how to do that on demand - he took a step to the side, just early enough to see the Saxon's sword swing past him. But so close...

So much for going unnoticed.

He took a few more steps back, away from his aggressor, and raised his hand towards him, preparing a new spell. But he hadn't anticipated the unfortunate presence of a tree root right behind his heel.

When he tripped, his body hit the ground with a thud and time started flowing at normal speed again. And as he looked up in fear, all he could see was the rage in the Saxon's eyes and a blade going down on him at full velocity.


	29. Chapter 29: The Battle of Mount Badon,p2

**Chapter 29: The Battle of Mount Badon, part 2**

Arthur ducked an incoming blade and thrust his sword forward into his opponent's stomach. When he took it out, the man fell to the ground limply.

From the corner of his eyes, someone sporting colours that weren't Camelot's nor Saxony's caught his attention. It turned out to be Merlin, on the ground, powerless, about to be struck by an armed Saxon.

Years of strict military training took over as he reached for the dagger at his belt and threw it straight at the Saxon. He stayed and watched just long enough to make sure he had reached his target and to see him fall dead before returning to the battle.

Merlin really _was_ useless. Even with his magic, he apparently still couldn't make up for his lack of combat skills.

The sorcerers weren't going to be enough to help them win this. They had to cut this battle short. And sometimes, the best way to kill a monster was to cut off its head, he thought as he observed Colgrin in the distance, a little away from the battlefield. Without their leader to give them orders, the soldiers would probably back out and stop fighting...

"Sir Leon!" he hailed the knight fighting a few paces away. "Take over the leadership of my unit," he ordered with a gesture towards his men, "I'll go try and intercept Colgrin!"

"Sire, no!" Leon protested. "This is folly! You can't do that on your own, if you get isolated from -"

Arthur didn't hear the end of his warning. Actually, he hadn't listened at all, and was already heading towards Colgrin.

* * *

As Merlin waited for the inevitable fatal blow, it never came. The Saxon's swing suddenly stopped as the man froze entirely with an empty gaze. Then, almost in slow motion, he collapsed to the ground, half on top of Merlin.

His heart still racing, Merlin pushed the body away to free himself. Once he was unhindered, he discovered a dagger planted in the man's back. As he stood up and looked around to identify his saviour, he barely had the time to see Arthur in the distance before the Prince disappeared in the chaos of the battle again.

Merlin looked back down to the dagger: straight to the heart. From over a hundred feet away. He would not mock those ridiculous exercises Arthur did during practise again, he promised himself.

He jumped when a group of fighting soldiers brushed past him. This was his wake up call. He really had to get a grip, the battle was far from over. He knelt and picked up the communication stone he had dropped in his fall.

Once again, in his mind, he heard every word his comrades were uttering. They were still all actively fighting the Saxons and protecting Camelot's knights. He had to keep going too.

"_Brengan Bill_," he whispered, almost without thinking about it.

A knight, knocked down to the ground, suddenly found his sword within his reach. After casting a few more spells, Merlin took an overall glance at the battlefield.

"Kay, the knights on your side are overwhelmed, what's going on? You have to give them a hand!" he urged.

He heard nothing other than the usual spell casting from his fellow sorcerers.

"Kay? Did you hear me?"

It wasn't Kay's voice that answered him, but Berlewen's, the witch the closest to Kay's theoretical position.

"I saw him being attacked a while ago," she said. "I... I think Kay's dead, Merlin."

Merlin took a second to digest the news.

It was his fault. Entirely and completely his fault. He had dragged all of them into this unprepared. Even he who wasn't fighting his first battle would have died too if it weren't for Arthur's intervention.

"Berlewen, move East to cover Kay's ground," he ordered reluctantly.

He prayed inwardly he wasn't sending the witch to her own death, but they didn't have much choice. They had to keep going.

"All right," Berlewen agreed.

"Merlin, the Saxons keep progressing, here," Garridan informed him. "I'll be behind them and out of the battlefield soon. Should I follow?"

"Yes," Merlin concurred, "but be careful when you move. Don't get noticed."

A few other sorcerers took the opportunity to ask him for instructions as well. Merlin advised them the best he could, hoping he was making the right decisions. But in truth, he was probably just as confused as the others were.

The Saxons were many, and they were everywhere. He had absolutely no idea who had the upper hand, but judging from what his fellow sorcerers were reporting, it didn't sound good. Despite all their efforts, no matter where he looked, Camelot's red colours still seemed too few compared to the flood of blue that was the Saxon army. Not to mention that his extensive and repeated use of magic over a short span of time was beginning to take its toll on him.

Things weren't going as well as he had initially thought while still intoxicated by the excitement of the battle. But his assessment of the current situation was suddenly made completely irrelevant by an unexpected event.

* * *

Arthur kept advancing through the ongoing battle, slashing here, cutting there, still headed for Colgrin. But in split seconds, his progression was interrupted with violence.

Just ahead of him, coming out of nowhere. A gigantic burst of flames. He instinctively protected his eyes from the light and heat with his forearm, but the blast soon caught up with him. It was so strong it knocked him off his feet.

It took him a few seconds to recover from the intensity of the blow and to stand up again. And when he looked up, a vision of horror awaited him.

Flames as high as trees. The heat, almost unbearable. Panic. Screaming of fear and death. The flames subsided slowly, but the damage was already done. Dozens of men, from both sides, were laying lifeless on the ground. Most burnt to the point of not being identifiable any more.

Those flames weren't natural. And as tears of anger started to fill his eyes, Arthur cursed at himself for ever agreeing to Merlin's plan. Magic users could _not_ be trusted.

There was a new burst of flames, a little away this time. Arthur barely had the time to see a hooded silhouette close to the new disaster area before it vanished in the distance.

But he had more urgent matters to deal with than to chase this lone sorcerer. Even Colgrin would have to wait.

He ran ahead, grabbed a wounded by the shoulders, and dragged him away from the residual flames. When he was done, he moved to another to do the same. He didn't care whether these men were one of his or one of Colgrin's.

* * *

Flames. Magic, evidently. Way too visible, but also way too dangerous for both armies. Merlin could understand resorting to stronger spells under the pressure, like he had done, but going to this length was unacceptable.

"Who did that?" he demanded, almost yelling.

A chorus of "not me" echoed in his mind.

"We had all agreed to use only non visible spells," Merlin insisted, forcing himself to speak in a lower voice. "And we're trying to protect Camelot's soldiers, not to have them killed along with the Saxons! So who did this?"

All the voices he heard were as confused as he was. According to the flames position, the one of them that was probably the closest was Morgana.

"Morgana, was that you?" he asked, but got no answer. He was beginning to have a bad feeling about this. "Morgana, if it was you, stop! You're going to blow your cover!" he continued.

The only answer he got was a new burst of flames, a little away from the first.

"Morgana, what are you doing? Stop this immediately!"

His plea was ignored again.

Merlin suddenly realised that if he wanted her to stop, he would have to go there and stop her himself. She was on the other side of the battlefield. There were hundreds of soldiers standing between them. This was suicidal. But he had no other choice. He couldn't let her behave so recklessly and endanger everyone around her.

Merlin picked up the shield from the body of the Saxon killed by Arthur earlier, took a few deep breaths, and started running.

* * *

They were all out harm's way, there was nothing else he could do, Arthur concluded after dragging several soldiers away from the flames, joined by a few others in his efforts. They were still at war, he should not forget that, and it was far from over.

Arthur resumed heading towards Colgrin, still resolute to do whatever was necessary to stop him and his army. The way was surprisingly clear ahead of him. Both armies had been disoriented by the violence and suddenness of the magical fire.

It might work to his advantage...

* * *

How he had survived crossing the entire battlefield while the combat was still raging around him, Merlin had no idea. A strong survival instinct maybe. And possibly the fact that many soldiers were still distracted by the flames.

But as it turned out, he may have reached the place where Morgana was supposed to be staying, she wasn't there.

"Morgana, where are you?" he whispered, but as he expected, she still didn't answer.

He was about to call again when his gaze fell on a dark stone, almost black, on the ground. The same stone as the one he currently held in his fist. Morgana's communication stone, left behind carelessly.

What was wrong with him? Why did he keep trusting her when she clearly had an agenda of her own? Was she still following Colgrin's orders? Had she sided with him, choosing to fight against her own Kingdom and her own kinsmen?

But he had wanted to believe in her, to believe in her regrets. This was the last time he made that mistake. He was going to find her, and to stop her from doing any more damage. No matter what it took.


	30. Chapter 30: The Battle of Mount Badon,p3

**Chapter 30: The Battle of Mount Badon, part 3**

Arthur was getting closer and closer to Colgrin's position. The soldiers were recovering from the distraction occasioned by the magical flames, so he was progressively facing more and more resistance. But he would _not_ waver. He had a a goal to attain.

But as he kept advancing, just as Sir Leon had warned, he soon found himself isolated from the rest of Camelot's troops, the only knight sporting red colours in the back of the battlefield. There, the Saxons were less numerous, more scattered across the plain, but that didn't make them any less fierce, on the contrary.

One after the other, he fended them off, having barely a second between each attack to recover and take a few breaths. But more were converging towards him. And while fighting them individually was nearly no trouble, exhaustion aside, he grew more and more worried by the tight group of five that seemed to be headed for him.

Abnormal movement caught his attention above his shoulder. Another group was treacherously approaching from the rear, preventing any retreat. He was going to be surrounded soon, ten to one, he realised. Maybe the Saxons had had the same idea as he had: eliminate their opponent's leader – namely himself – for a quicker win.

He had to get out of there before he was entirely trapped.

Arthur lunged at one of the Saxons, easily defeating him, but others joined in. He fought them with all his strength, but they were too many. While Arthur attacked one of them with a fatal blow to the chest, another took the offensive and managed to slash his right arm.

The sudden pain made Arthur drop his sword. Defenceless in front of the danger, he had no other choice than to take a few steps away to buy himself some time to recover and think of a new strategy. Crouching to the ground, he stole a sword from a dead Saxon's body. He felt its weight briefly, but the pain made him wince and forced him to use his left hand to second his right. From now on, single-handed swings would be out of the question, he concluded.

Trying to control his breathing and heartbeat, Arthur took a circular look at his assailants. Others were joining, but overall the Saxons were closing in slowly. Too slowly even, this was strange. A thought suddenly occurred to him: they wanted to take him alive. Make a trophy prisoner out of him.

Arthur stood up back straight, wielding his sword and holding it a little tighter, preparing himself to face them. He would rather fight them to the death than to let them take him alive. But while he thought he was only seconds away from his probable ultimate fight, the most unexpected intervention happened.

Some Saxons from the circle suddenly turned around to defend themselves from an attacker from the outside.

This had to be a knight from Camelot, coming to give him a hand, Arthur immediately assumed. It was now or never, his only chance to get out of there. Mustering all the energy he had left, Arthur ran towards that side of the circle, hoping to create a breach with the help of the knight fighting on the other side.

And even though the two of them managed to do quite a lot of damage among their enemies, all the Saxons reacted very quickly. They shifted their positions until he, the other knight, and the couple of soldiers they were currently fighting were all encircled again. But Arthur realised it a second too late, when he looked around as he took his sword out of a freshly killed Saxon.

Very naturally, he and the other knight fell back to back, each keeping a close eye on a side of the circle of Saxons soldiers. They were over twenty now. Arthur took a quick glance over his shoulder to identify his companion.

"Peredur," he greeted with surprise. "Glad to see you here."

"Well, you looked like you could use some help."

"You didn't bring your men," Arthur pointed out. A reinforcement of fifty men would have been quite welcome.

"You didn't bring yours either," Peredur retorted.

Arthur had to admit he had a point. He _may_ have been a little overconfident when choosing to go on his own. "I don't suppose you came with a plan? I mean, other than barging in and getting trapped with me?"

Peredur didn't reply. Instead, he hailed one of the Saxons: "Hey, Edwin! It's been ages, how are you doing?"

Arthur glared at Peredur over his shoulder. "_That_'s your plan? Fraternizing with the enemy?"

"Traitor!" one of the Saxons barked at Peredur.

"I have a feeling it's not going to work," Arthur commented ironically.

"I trained half of these men. I know their weaknesses," Peredur told him. Then, he indicated each of the Saxons on Arthur's side of the circle, one after the other, enumerating their flaws. "Slow. Recent injury to the right leg. Don't know him. Bad at counter-attacks on his left side. Leaves his back too exposed. Don't know him. Really bad swordsman. Don't know him. Weak. Do you think you can use any of that?" Peredur concluded.

Arthur watched the Saxons getting closer and closer, trying to memorise Peredur's advices. Blood was pouring from the gash at his arm, down to his hand, making his grip on his sword slippery.

"Well, I guess we'll be settled soon..."

* * *

Merlin looked around him anxiously, still surrounded by the ongoing battle. Where was Morgana? he wondered. He still hadn't managed to find her. It didn't take much effort to go after her though. All he had to do was follow the trail of the havoc she was causing, but he always arrived a bit too late.

So many dead, so many wounded, Merlin observed, nauseated, while walking close to a disaster area. Soldiers from both sides, writhing in agony on the ground. Before he continued on his way after Morgana, he briefly paused behind a tree to cast a spell discreetly.

"_Aeftersona Wiguma_," he whispered.

Several of the wounded soldiers sat up straight, obviously surprised to find themselves suddenly painless.

Merlin wished he could stay longer to heal more of them, but he had to keep going. He _had_ to find Morgana before she did any more damage.

And there she was. In the distance, he recognised her hooded silhouette, her back to him, standing tall as she walked fearless, in plain view, right in the middle of the battlefield. What sort of madness had struck her to have her take so many risks?

As he was about to set towards her, some strange inkling made him cast a quick look in an entirely different direction. On the moment, he thought of a mere coincidence, but later on, he started wondering if he had a sixth sense for that. Knowing when Arthur was in danger. And right then, Arthur was in a quite dire situation.

He saw Arthur, out of the battlefield's principal grounds, surrounded by two dozens of Saxons. He wasn't alone, there was a knight with him, but that one was facing away from Merlin, he couldn't identify him.

Merlin looked at Arthur, trapped. Then at Morgana, slipping away from him. Then back at Arthur. And he sighed heavily. He would have to act fast. Ignoring the knights fighting around him, the swords clashing or swinging sometimes only a few inches from him, he ran towards Arthur.

As Merlin progressed, he saw the Saxons getting closer and closer to their prey. By the time he was himself close enough, Arthur and the other knight were bracing themselves, preparing to fight for their lives. But no matter how good warriors those two may be, even Merlin knew they stood no chance against so many opponents. He had no other option than to intervene in plain sight. Whether that brought too much attention to himself was completely irrelevant.

Merlin raised his arm towards the group. And as he started pronouncing the spell, he noticed Arthur staring straight at him.

"_Garheap Feallan Niccan Gegite!_"

The Saxons all fell to the ground as one, as if all knocked out simultaneously by a strong and invisible blow, leaving Arthur and the other knight the only ones still standing.

* * *

Arthur couldn't move. He was transfixed. He stared at the bodies on the ground surrounding him and Peredur. Over twenty men, down in a second. He looked up at Merlin again from afar, while his manservant lowered his arm slowly. And it felt like he was seeing him for the first time. Really seeing him for what he was.

There had been a glow in his eyes an instant before.

Magic.

Arthur may have known for months now, they may have talked openly about it, it was still the first time he actually saw him performing any. Twenty men in a single second, he thought again. Without breaking into a sweat. Without making any apparent effort. So easily. So naturally. If he was honest with himself, he'd say he was impressed. And surprised. He may have to reconsider his judgement.

Maybe Merlin _was_ worth a thousand men on his own, after all.

And maybe they _did_ have a chance to win this war.

Arthur nodded at him briefly in silent recognition, and watched his manservant continue on his way.

"What happened?" Peredur suddenly queried as he joined Arthur, having obviously missed Merlin's intervention from where he was.

"I don't know," Arthur lied.

"That was magic," the other man stated.

"No."

"It was! How else do you explain -"

"It was _not_ magic," Arthur repeated firmly.

Peredur stared back at him with a sceptical look. "All right, if you say so, my Lord..." he finally capitulated, like any of Arthur's knights would have long before. But there was still this slightly insolent tone in his voice...

"Get back to your men, they need their leader," Arthur instructed, "you shouldn't have left them in the first place."

"What about you?"

"I have something to finish," Arthur replied quickly before heading away.

"You're going for Colgrin, aren't you?" Peredur called.

"Back to your men, Peredur. This is an order," Arthur insisted without looking back.

"Colgrin is an excellent swordsman, you can't take him on alone while wounded! You'll need help!"

Arthur turned back and glared at him, irritated. "I think I made myself clear. There is still a battle raging down there, they need your presence more than I do."

Then, he watched as Peredur stood immobile stubbornly, until the other man shook his head and turned on his heels at last to head back towards the battlefield.


	31. Chapter 31: The Battle of Mount Badon,p4

**Chapter 31: The Battle of Mount Badon, part 4**

Merlin ducked to avoid a sword swing that wasn't destined to him while he kept racing through the battlefield. The way no one was currently making any case of his presence was quite impressive, while Morgana was beginning to draw a lot of attention to herself.

He had almost caught up with her again, just a hundred more paces. In the distance, he saw a Saxon, sword raised, running straight at her. In one slow, slick movement of her wrist, Morgana sent the man flying back violently, crashing into a tree, before he slid down to the ground, unconscious or dead. Another knight jumped at her, but as effortlessly, she pushed him away with an open palm. Then, she continued advancing as if nothing had happened, having apparently a destination in mind.

Where had she learned those spells? Merlin wondered. And the flames? Was it at the gatherings? Or through whoever had told her about them in the first place? The one she had refused to talk about? And where was she headed?

It was critical he stopped her quickly. He redoubled his efforts to reduce the space between them. But before he reached her, he discovered with horror where she was headed. Or rather, who she was headed for.

Mildgyth.

The other witch took several steps back from her hiding place as Morgana kept approaching, trying to get away from her with fright in her eyes. Morgana raised her arm towards her. Simultaneously, Mildgyth rose slowly in the air, following the movement of Morgana's arm, until her feet weren't touching the ground any more. Then, with an expression of utter panic, she reached for her own throat, as if gasping for air.

The last ounce of restraint Merlin may still have vanished instantly. Granting oneself too much freedom during the fights was one thing. Going deliberately against one of your own was an entirely different one.

"_Nitherascufan!_" he yelled.

Instantly destabilised by his curse, Morgana released her grip on Mildgyth, but it didn't have any other noticeable effect than Morgana subsiding a little. As soon as her feet were back on the ground, the other witch only briefly looked at Morgana and Merlin before running away. Morgana wasn't even looking at him when Merlin felt an intense force emanating from her, pushing him away strongly. He had to struggle to remain standing.

Meanwhile, Morgana raised her arm again, capturing Mildgyth once more. The witch, interrupted in her run, yelped in pain when she was lifted from the ground again, her head tilted slightly to the side as if hanged by her neck.

Merlin intervened immediately. "_Nitherascufan_!"

For the second time, Mildgyth returned to the ground. Without sparing a single second, she ran again. And this time, Morgana didn't stop her, because Merlin had managed to knock her off. He caught up with her while Mildgyth disappeared in the distance.

"Morgana, what do you _think_ you're doing?" he scolded as Morgana stood up. "Casting visible spells? Attacking one of us? Are you trying to get everyone killed, including those on Camelot's side? What happened to your wanting to make amends?" he spat angrily.

Morgana didn't show any sign that she had listened to a single word. She didn't even look at him. Instead, as soon as she was up, she turned away and left.

"What the – Morgana!" he called, but she didn't stop and kept heading back towards the heart of the battlefield. "Morgana, listen to me!" he called again, but to no avail. She was completely ignoring him.

He ran after her and caught her wrist, forcing her to face him. And what he discovered as she faced him at last stupefied him. Her eyes were distant, almost empty. And the way she looked at him... Not straight in the eyes, but to some point behind him... She seemed... not there. In a trance. No matter all the things he could blame her for, she was obviously currently not in her normal state.

"_Gegledan Pilian_," she muttered.

Her skin suddenly became burning hot, and Merlin had to release her when it became unbearable. She immediately started walking away again. This time, Merlin reacted quickly, but he tried not to hurt her.

"_Astillan Gang_," he said with his arm aimed at her.

Morgana looked down to her feet when she couldn't move them any more. Merlin walked around her until he was facing her again. And this time, she was looking at him. _Really_ looking at him. With the dazed look of someone who just woke up from a dream.

"Merlin?" she asked with a frown.

"Morgana, what's going on? Have you turned mad to do all this?" he accused.

"Do what?"

"Do you really have to ask? Why did you cast those spells? Why did you attack Mildgyth?"

"Why I...? I had to... There was..." she began, and stopped abruptly when she started looking around her, and probably saw the ravage she had caused. She paled noticeably, as if she was realising for the first time the extent of what she had done.

Her attitude was preoccupying Merlin more and more. He was now convinced she had _not_ been her normal self those last few hours.

"I should never have let it..." she muttered, barely audible.

"Let what?" Merlin enquired, before his attention was caught by knights fighting closer and closer. "We can't stay here, it's too dangerous," he stated and cancelled his spell with a wave of his hand. "We have to take cover."

"No," Morgana said, much to Merlin's surprise, as she took a few steps back. "I made too much damage already. It's my fault, I should never have come here. I thought I could stop it, but it's still..." she ended abruptly with a strangled voice, still stepping away from Merlin.

"Stop what?" Merlin asked.

"I must go," she just said. "It's better this way."

"Morgana, don't -" he began, but it was too late. Morgana was already running away in the general direction of Camelot. He didn't try to stop her, still wondering what had possessed her those last few hours.

The battling knights were now dangerously close. And he could still hear, in his mind, the other sorcerers' voices, still exerting themselves to help the soldiers.

He would have to wait to solve the issue with Morgana. For the moment, they had a war to win.

* * *

Arthur got rid of the last couple of men blocking the way towards Colgrin. The Saxon King hadn't moved from his observing spot at the back of the battlefield during the entire confrontation.

Arthur walked up to him slowly, catching his breath, brandishing his sword fiercely. But Colgrin just observed him with amusement.

"I see you didn't get your hands dirty and stayed comfortably away," Arthur teased.

"That's what the soldiers are for," Colgrin replied.

"Aren't you at least going to get down your horse to fight me?" Arthur provoked with an inviting wave of the hand.

"Are you in such a hurry to die?" Colgrin retorted with a smirk.

"Get down here and it will be my pleasure to prove you wrong," Arthur insisted.

Colgrin finally dismounted with a short laugh. "Very well," he said as he faced him and unsheathed his sword. "I guess you really need to be taught that lesson."

They both stood still as they observed one another in silence. Arthur could feel drops of sweat rolling down his forehead, while blood was still pouring from the gash at his arm. In front of him, Colgrin looked rested. His armour was as clean and shiny as if it was coming right out of the blacksmith's, while Arthur's was certainly stained with dirt and blood from his enemies. Colgrin glanced at his wounded arm, and smiled briefly before taking the offensive at last.

Their swords clashed loudly against one another. Parry after parry, Arthur soon realised Peredur had spoken the truth: Colgrin _was_ an excellent swordsman. He may be a little slower than most younger knights and there may be no subtlety to his swordplay, he was strong. _Really_ strong. And Arthur was all the more aware of it that Colgrin kept attacking on his wounded side.

Every single blow Arthur blocked increased the throbbing pain in his arm, but he forbid himself to show any sign of it. Every single time, he counter-attacked ferociously, but he never managed to gain any advantage. Colgrin was still fresh, while he had been tired by hours of fighting.

Blow after blow, the pain became near unbearable, forcing Arthur to jump away from Colgrin to buy himself some time. To recover. Catch his breath. Give a little respite to his arm.

"Something wrong, my young Prince?" Colgrin teased, emphasizing the last words as if they were an insult, like he had on the day they had met.

Arthur chose to ignore the provocation and remained silent while taking a few deep breaths.

"You know," Colgrin continued, lowering his sword, "over the last month, I have to admit you grew on me. So I'm willing to offer you a deal. Surrender now and I will let you live in exile."

"I will never surrender," Arthur spat. "And even if I did, you wouldn't let me live."

"True," Colgrin admitted with a smirk. "But I thought you might be naïve enough to fall for that one too."

All the efforts, the frustration, the disillusions of the last weeks suddenly came back rushing to Arthur. In a fit of anger and with renewed energy, he took a swing at Colgrin, obviously surprising him. The Saxon King barely managed to brace himself and block his attack. Arthur kept advancing, and step after step, he gained a significant advantage. He recovered his confidence when he felt he finally had the upper hand.

But that was a huge mistake. He was so eager to attack Colgrin that he neglected his defence. When he realised it, it was too late to block the Saxon's offensive.

In a yelp of pain, Arthur's sword slipped out of his hands when Colgrin's slashed his arm. He immediately crouched to pick it up, but Colgrin was quicker: the Saxon stepped on the blade, and placed the tip of his sword at Arthur's neck.

When Arthur looked up at Colgrin, making no brusque movement, his wrath still hadn't dissipated.

"You let your emotions guide you too much," Colgrin mocked.

"At least _I_ have some," Arthur retorted. "Come on, let's get this over with," he invited, offering his neck with resignation. Until his gaze fell on something behind Colgrin, slightly to his left. Then, he grinned.

"Oh, I see what you're trying to do," Colgrin claimed. "You want me to look back and distract me. But I'm not that stupid."

Arthur's smile widened. "Of course you're not. But really, you should have a look."

As could be expected, Colgrin ignored his warning. And as a consequence, he didn't see Peredur's elbow coming at full speed to connect with his jaw.

Colgrin fell to the ground, but didn't remain knocked out very long. Enraged by this sudden assault, he turned against Peredur. The latter hadn't anticipated such a quick reaction, and could only watch defenceless Colgrin's retaliation.

Arthur swiftly grabbed the dagger at the Saxon's belt to thrust it into his chest, up to the hilt, before he could finish his movement. Colgrin stopped instantly, the fixed expression on his face one of surprise. His sword slowly slipped from his hand and fell loudly.

When Arthur removed the dagger, Colgrin toppled backwards until he was laying lifeless on the ground. Arthur observed the Saxon King for a couple of seconds, and let go a long sigh of relief once he was sure he was dead.

Peredur offered his arm to help him stand up.

"I asked you to return to your men," Arthur scolded.

"Oh, sorry, would you rather have been killed, then?" Peredur retorted ironically.

"You disobeyed a direct order. I could send you to a martial court for that," Arthur pointed out.

"No, you couldn't. I'm not an actual knight. And if I want to become one some day, I need you alive."

"Oh, I see. A totally disinterested gesture, then?"

"Absolutely," Peredur confirmed with a wide smile.

"Will you return to your men now, if I order you to?"

"I just might."

"Good. Because we still have a war to finish," Arthur concluded as he headed back towards the battlefield.

* * *

"_Gelisian Guthbill_," Merlin muttered.

A sword slipped out of the hands of a Saxon.

Merlin was about to cast another spell, but stopped as he watched his surroundings. Something was happening among the Saxons. He could not say what exactly, but something was definitely going on.

Fact one, Camelot's numbers were now bigger than the Saxon's. Fact two, the Saxons seemed much less organised than at the beginning of the battle. Were those signs that victory was near?

* * *

Arthur removed his sword from a Saxon's chest and, in a swirl, killed another one. He braced himself to face a third one, but found none nearby.

It was unmistakable: the tables had turned. Maybe it was Colgrin's death. Maybe it was the magical support. Maybe it was both. But either way, the Saxons were overwhelmed.

Arthur listened to the few remaining Saxons commanding officers, giving orders to their troops. Slowly but surely, they were retreating...

Out of breath, exhausted, Arthur leaned on his sword's pommel while its blade sunk a couple of inches into the ground. And smiled.

They had done it.


	32. Chapter 32: Responsibilities

**Chapter 32: Responsibilities**

Much later that day, while the soldiers were organising to deal with the aftermath of the battle, Merlin walked away from the camp to join the other sorcerers who had gathered there. And found out there were only three of them. Elias, Berlewen and Garridan. They were covered with dirt and some blood. Some were wounded, but they were only minor injuries.

Merlin didn't dare ask for confirmation of Kay's demise. "Fendrel's not with you?" he just said.

"No, he's..." Garridan began, but stopped and shook his head. "I saw him. His body. Back there, while we left..."

Merlin's heart sank at the news that another one hadn't survived. "And Mildgyth?" he asked.

"Nowhere to be found," Berlewen supplied. "I hope she's all right."

Merlin hoped she was all right too. He guessed she had left the battlefield after the scare provoked by Morgana, but was she safe, wherever she was? And of course, Morgana was missing too... He didn't doubt _she_ had escaped alive, but his feelings towards her were still mitigated.

Nothing had turned out the way he had envisioned. They had helped Camelot defeat the Saxons but... no one was supposed to die. Of course it was a war. Of course there had to be casualties. But _he_ was the one who had dragged them all into this. _He_ was the one who had convinced them to come. _He_ was the one who had let Morgana join them. And he couldn't help feeling guilty about the final outcome.

"I'm sorry, I should have... come up with a better plan, or..."

"We all knew the risks," Berlewen cut in. "Don't torture yourself with this."

"About Kay and Fendrel... I'll get in touch with their families," Elias offered. "Let them know they... had an honourable death."

Merlin nodded sadly. "Thank you."

"So... We won, right?" Garridan asked. "The Saxons left?"

"Yes," Merlin confirmed. "Yes, we won." But somehow, it still didn't feel like a victory.

They all stayed there, standing in silence for several minutes, none of them knowing what to say or what to do.

"Can we all... keep in touch, somehow?" Berlewen suddenly asked.

"Yes, that would be nice," Garridan concurred. "If we need to... talk about what happened here today..."

They exchanged a few more words until they finally parted ways. Merlin watched them walk away for a while before heading back to the camp. He was going to miss that contact with other sorcerers. It had felt great knowing that he wasn't entirely alone, back there during the battle.

As he returned to the camp, he saw a group of knights coming out of Arthur's tent, among which Peredur, Sir Leon, and the most experienced knights of Camelot.

When Sir Leon spotted Merlin, he immediately headed for him. "Arthur asked for you. He's wounded and needs healing," he informed him.

"Sure, I'll go right away."

Before going to Arthur's tent, Merlin stopped to pull together what he would need: some bandages, healing salve, a bucket of clear water and a clean cloth.

"Ah Merlin, there you are," Arthur welcomed as he entered the tent. "It's my right arm. Nothing too serious though," he explained, rolling up his bloodied sleeve to expose his wound while he took a seat.

Merlin knelt next to him. He cleaned the wound with the cloth and water, applied the salve, and started bandaging the arm. And during the entire operations, Arthur didn't say a single word.

After those long minutes of silence, Arthur finally spoke up. "After a battle, I usually spend some time with my knights to debrief them about what happened," he declared.

"I know that," Merlin stated, wondering why Arthur would mention it. But the Prince's insisting look made clear why he did. "Oh," Merlin mouthed. "You want to... debrief me..."

"Can you remind me the... _plan_ you submitted to me last night, regarding the upcoming battle?" Arthur asked immediately.

"I... suggested that I and a few other sorcerers give a hand against the Saxons."

Arthur nodded. "And what were the conditions under which I agreed to it?"

Calm tone. Slight tension in the voice. Pursed lips. Scrutinizing eyes. Arthur was upset, Merlin could tell.

"You... wanted the magical support to be invisible, so that no one would know magic had been used," Merlin replied carefully.

Arthur nodded again. "And has this support been invisible?" he said, with a hint of reproach this time.

Merlin hesitated. "Well, when you were cornered, I had no other choice than to intervene openly..."

"What about the flames?"

"That wasn't me, but I made sure to stop -"

"I don't care who did what!" Arthur suddenly barked. "The sorcerers were under _your_ responsibility, Merlin! Do you realise that if anyone makes the connection with me or Camelot, we'll probably end up with a civil war?"

Merlin remained silent. He didn't dare look at Arthur in the eyes, and kept bandaging his arm conscientiously. But in truth, he was pained by the reprimand. Because he had helped, and for the first time, Arthur knew it and had even seen it. Maybe expecting a little recognition was too much to hope for. "I did the best I could, considering the situation," he finally whispered.

"I thought I had been clear the other night," Arthur continued. "The orders I gave you couldn't have been more simple! And yet you managed to disobey!"

Merlin's face hardened. He wasn't just pained any more, he was growing angry. It wasn't the first time Arthur scolded him, and it certainly wasn't going to be the last. But this time, he had saved the Prince's life right in front of him. And even if he had disobeyed his orders to do it, even if some things had gotten out of hand, couldn't Arthur acknowledge Merlin's help just this once?

He was exhausted, the extensive use of magic had completely drained him. He was saddened by the loss of two of his companions. And he was hurt by Arthur's reproaches. But he managed to contain his emotions. "I'm sorry if I've been a disappointment to you, Sire," he said between gritted teeth.

Arthur sighed. "Thankfully, my men seem to think it was the Saxons who came with magic." He paused. "Did all the sorcerers leave the plain?"

"All those who could," Merlin replied with a strangled voice, his eyes welling up with tears at the evocation of those fallen for having followed him into battle.

Arthur seemed to understand what he meant by that. But the Prince's next sentence took him completely by surprise.

"I made a huge mistake."

Merlin stood up abruptly. This was the last straw, he couldn't take it any longer. He stuffed the bottle of healing salve in his pocket, gathered the remaining bandages, and grabbed the bucket of water.

"I know. You should never have trusted me," he stated angrily.

"Merlin," Arthur interrupted.

"And _they_ should never have trusted me either," he continued nonetheless, pointing towards the outside of the tent with the other sorcerers in mind. "I failed you, and I failed them. They followed me because they believed in me, but I let them down. Turns out I'm not a very reliable person."

With this last outburst, Merlin turned on his heels abruptly and headed out.

"Will you stop whining for a second? Get back here, I'm not finished," Arthur ordered coldly.

Merlin froze at the tent's entrance, holding back his tears. He just wanted to get out of there, have a good and long night of sleep, forget about all that for while. A couple of tears managed to roll down his cheeks. He wiped them quickly with the back of his hand before turning round to face Arthur. "Yes, Sire? Please, do go on with the reproaches."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Up until an hour ago, I _did_ think I shouldn't have trusted you," he admitted.

Merlin tensed, clenching his fists.

"But then I debriefed my knights," Arthur continued. "They all felt their men had never fought so well. Some would say that the Gods were with them, or that there was some guardian angel watching over their shoulder, or just that they were... inspired." He paused. "They felt it. The magic. Not as such, but... They _did_ feel seconded. And only you and I know by what."

Merlin was quite surprised by Arthur's statement, to say the least. All his resentment vanished instantly. "Are you saying that... using magic has been beneficial?" he asked cautiously.

"I received reports on the casualties, for both sides. We have a lot of wounded, but an unexpectedly low number of actual losses, considering the circumstances. We wouldn't have won this war if it weren't for the magical support. There's no denying it."

Arthur's acknowledgement of what they had achieved warmed Merlin's heart. "So you were right to trust me?"

Arthur remained silent, pondering his answer.

"You really don't want to say it out loud, do you?" Merlin teased with a smile.

Arthur sighed. "I have to admit that you and the other sorcerers were of valuable help in this conflict. Together, you have probably saved dozens of lives today, and prevented Camelot from falling to the Saxons. Without asking for anything else in return. And... when the time comes, I shall not forget it."

Merlin couldn't believe his ears. Had he managed to do it at last? Change Arthur's views on magic? But he decided not to push the matter, scared to endanger this success. "Then what was the mistake you made?"

"My mistake was to treat you like a soldier, giving you orders like you were one. Which you're not. And I should have known better. I mean, when have you _ever_ obeyed my orders to the letter? I should have handled the situation differently."

Merlin wanted to protest, but he knew Arthur was right, he didn't usually stick strictly to his orders. "So you're not really scolding me for disobeying you, just... questioning my status?"

Arthur nodded silently.

"Then what would you say my true status is?"

"I'm not sure any more," Arthur whispered. Then he stared at Merlin with intensity, looking thoughtful.

Arthur had never looked at him like that before, Merlin realised. He was under the impression that in light of the recent events, Arthur might be beginning to see him differently.

Arthur snapped out of his thoughts abruptly. "Anyway. I was thinking you were probably entitled to claim some sort of... reward for your help. So, what would you think of a promotion?"

"What kind of promotion?" Merlin asked excitedly, though Arthur's almost imperceptible smile puzzled him a little.

Arthur shrugged. "Well I guess you _could _make an adequate court jester."

Merlin grinned. "And by _court jester_, you mean _adviser_."

"No, I _do_ mean court jester," Arthur corrected. "We'll have to find the previous jester's costume again, dust it a little since we haven't had a jester in a while, but I'm sure it will fit you like a glove."

"Wait... The costume? What costume?"

"Of course, the costume! What's a good jester without his costume, right? Bright, flashy colours. Not to mention the bells on the hat. You're going to love it."

"There's a hat with bells on it?"

"Yes Merlin. A hat with bells on it," Arthur confirmed without batting an eyelid. "Oh, wait, I think there are some on the shoes too... That way I'll be sure to hear you from afar..." he added with a broad smile as he headed out of the tent.

Merlin watched him walk away, thwarted, until he understood. "You _are_ punishing me for disobeying your orders, aren't you!" he exclaimed as he followed him.

"What are you talking about?" Arthur retorted innocently, never stopping walking. "I told you, it's a promotion."

"All right," Merlin said as he caught up with Arthur and walked next to him. "Then if I'm no longer your servant, I won't have to do all your chores any more?"

"I never said you wouldn't be my servant any more." When Merlin opened his mouth to protest, Arthur went on: "See it has having more responsibilities, with this second activity!"

"_Second_? I'm already Gaius' assistant too! I'll never have enough time to do all this!" Merlin complained.

"Oh I'm sure making a _fool_ of yourself shouldn't take you that much extra time..." Arthur joked with a smirk.

Merlin pursed his lips. "I decline this promotion!"

"You can't decline a promotion offered by a member of the Royal family, it's an affront punished by law."

"You're making that up."

"Absolutely not. Look, it's up to you: jester or hanging."

Merlin stopped and watched Arthur continue on his way, outraged. "So _that's_ what I get for helping you win a war? A ridiculous costume with bells on it? Without me you'd all be dead right now!" he almost shouted.

"Really? Would we?" Arthur replied above his shoulder with a laugh.

Merlin continued to grumble under his breath while Arthur joined a group of knights.

Some things would never change.

* * *

Coming next: Epilogue part 1/3 "The Rules of War" (yes, the end is near!)


	33. Epilogue, p1: The Rules of War

**Epilogue, part 1/3: The Rules of War**

"Perdedur, do you swear loyalty and allegiance to I, King Uther, and to the Kingdom of Camelot?"

"Yes, I do so swear."

Uther nodded to Arthur, who walked to Peredur and handed him the sword that would be his as a Knight of Camelot.

In a loud and clear voice, Peredur proceeded with his vows. "With this sword, I swear to serve my Kingdom, to the best of my ability and as long as I shall draw breath."

Peredur was beaming, Arthur could tell his pride wasn't feigned. However, when he handed his shield to the soon-to-be knight, he gave an imperceptible nod to his left to direct his attention to his father – if Peredur kept reciting his vows while looking at Arthur, some might think he was swearing his allegiance to him and not to the King.

"With this shield, I swear to protect the weak and the feeble from injustice, danger, and any foes I may encounter," Peredur continued, this time clearly looking at the King.

"Take a knee," Uther instructed solemnly.

Peredur obeyed immediately and, leaning on his sword as he would a cane, he laid his left knee on the ground and bowed his head with his eyes closed. The King unsheathed his own sword and walked in front of Peredur.

"In remembrance of honour and bravery," Uther declared as he stroke Peredur's right shoulder with the flat of his sword. "In remembrance of your oath and obligations," he continued with a stroke on the left shoulder. "May you be a good and wise knight," he concluded with a stroke on the top of Peredur's head.

Uther took a few steps back, sheathed his sword, and waited for Peredur to open his eyes and look up at him.

"Rise now, Sir Knight," Uther invited, "and join your brothers in arms."

Beside his father, Arthur watched Peredur stand up, take a few deep breaths – and a quick glance at Angharad – while the realisation that he was now officially a Knight of Camelot sank in, and while all the other knights behind him unsheathed their swords. Then, Peredur turned around and walked through them, clanking his sword with theirs every time he came by one of them.

Arthur's gaze fell on Angharad. She had insisted she wanted to attend the dubbing ceremony. Despite the fact that her marriage to Arthur was officially null and void since the previous day gave her no right to attend, the King had granted her request. So there she was, wearing the black mourning dress imposed by her father's recent death. She seemed divided between occasional smiles when watching Peredur's happiness, and sorrow the rest of the time.

"I'm sorry to disturb you, my Lord," Arthur heard Sir Leon whisper to his father while the knights congratulated Peredur, "but we received a message during the ceremony. A message from Saxony."

Arthur pricked up his ears at this announcement, and noticed that next to him, Angharad did too.

"Go ahead," Uther ordered.

"Aldyn, Colgrin's eldest son, has been crowned King of Saxony. He sends his regards."

Uther smiled. "Of course he does," he said ironically, and turned to Angharad. "My Lady, now that nothing binds you here any more, and with the situation apparently stable in Saxony, you are free to return to your Kingdom, if it is your wish."

Angharad paled noticeably. "My brother made no mention of me in his message. I doubt I would be very welcome," she pointed out. "So, with your Highness' permission, I would like to remain here, in Camelot."

In other words, she was asking for political asylum, Arthur translated mentally. He knew his father's wrath had appeased with the victorious outcome of the war, and he also knew he had been at least somewhat touched by Angharad's situation. But Arthur wasn't sure his father would go as far as granting her asylum.

"I can't allow you to stay in the castle, the people wouldn't understand," the King stated.

"May I suggest an alternate solution?" Arthur intervened, jumping on the occasion to introduce his plan. "Sir Peredur, can you come over here for a minute?" he called.

Peredur immediately left the crowd of knights to join with them. "My Lords?"

"Sir Peredur here has been returned his family's land," Arthur reminded. "Maybe he would be so kind as to agree to keep looking after Princess Angharad like he has done so well for the last few years, provide for her and give her shelter?"

Arthur remained stoic while both Angharad and Peredur stared at him with incredulity before looking at each other.

"Sir Peredur has only just been dubbed," Uther answered. "It wouldn't be fair to already burden him with the custody of Lady Angharad."

"It would be no burden," Peredur instantly assured, "but my greatest pleasure to already serve my Kingdom."

Oh, nicely played, Arthur thought while trying to refrain a smile.

Meanwhile, the King stared back at Peredur with surprise, then turned to Angharad. "My Lady, would this solution suit you?"

"I have nowhere to go, so if it really is no trouble to Sir Peredur, I agree with this solution."

Angharad had spoken very calmly, but Arthur could tell she was trying to keep her enthusiasm under control. And judging from the way his father looked alternately at her and Peredur, Arthur had the feeling the King was beginning to understand the underlying situation himself.

However, if he did, he said nothing of it.

"Very well," Uther finally said. "This is settled then."

* * *

An hour later, once the celebration was over, Arthur left the reception hall with Merlin in tow.

"I still don't get it," Merlin began abruptly, "isn't Peredur a Saxon?"

"It is _Sir_ Peredur," Arthur pointed out with a sigh. "And you'd do well to remember it. He's a Knight of Camelot."

"But I thought foreigners or people without noble -"

"Merlin, do you really need to always know and understand everything that's going on?"

"No..." his manservant replied reluctantly as they reached their destination.

Arthur knocked lightly on the door, waited for an invitation, and entered Morgana's room silently. She was laying in her bed, awake but quite pale.

"How are you feeling?" he asked softly as he walked closer to her bed.

"Tired," she answered weakly.

"I was told you fell ill shortly after we left for battle, and were bed-ridden for days. What happened?"

Morgana shook her head. "Nothing. Just the strain of the last few days, I suppose," she said, and looked away. She was now staring at a corner of her room, as if she was concentrating on something.

Arthur cast a quick look there, but the corner was empty. He couldn't help thinking Morgana's behaviour was rather strange.

"The King was apparently quite worried that he wasn't able to see you for the first couple of days," he continued. "What did Gaius say?"

Morgana remained oddly silent, apparently deep in her thoughts.

"Morgana?"

She looked back at him at last. "Gaius said that I need rest," she answered simply.

"If you feel unwell, have him asked immediately, all right?"

"I know, the King told me the same thing. But I believe Gaius has better things to do, like healing the wounded from the war," she concluded, averting her eyes. She sounded like she was ashamed to require Gaius' attention...

"Merlin, come over here," Arthur suddenly hailed his manservant, who had been dutifully waiting just outside the door. "Morgana, Merlin is at your disposal. If you need anything, just ask him."

The exchanged glances that followed between the two puzzled Arthur. He didn't manage to interpret them but he felt some sort of unease between them, which was quite unusual.

"I don't think that will be necessary," Morgana finally replied. "My... new maid is perfectly capable of taking care of me."

"I thought you had complained about her... Did I hear wrong?" he asked for confirmation.

"No, it's just... Well, she's not Gwen."

Arthur felt a twinge of sadness at the mention of Gwen's name. "I know," he agreed softly. "Well, take as much rest as you need, and don't worry, I'll make sure everything is back as it used to be within a few days," he promised as he took his leave.

It took him half a walk down the corridor to realise Merlin was lingering behind, in Morgana's room.

"Merlin!" he called. "Leave her alone," he scolded as soon as his manservant caught up with him, "she needs to rest."

Merlin didn't reply and kept walking at his side in silence, looking slightly worried.

"It's a pity she couldn't attend the dubbing," Arthur commented as they walked down the corridor, "I'm sure it would have cheered her up."

"Hmm," he heard Merlin mumble pensively.

"By the way, what was that earlier, when I suggested that you could tend to her needs?" Arthur asked. "She seemed embarrassed about something, what happened?"

Merlin shrugged. "Do you really need to always know and understand everything that's going on?" he quoted.

Arthur glared at him. "It is such a pity we couldn't find that jester's costume."

"I guess it is," Merlin agreed with a smile.

Arthur suddenly stopped dead in his tracks. "There's... one last thing I need to do, but in order to do that I need to know where -"

"Gwen is in Hodenc, at her cousin's," Merlin interrupted, apparently guessing his intentions. "Go and bring her back," he added with a wide smile.

Arthur smiled too, and patted Merlin's shoulder. "Thank you. I will."


	34. Epilogue, p2: The Rules of Magic

**Epilogue, part 2/3: The Rules of Magic**

Merlin woke up in a jolt in the middle of the night, disturbed in his sleep by a noise coming from the laboratory. Knowing it couldn't be Gaius, he got up immediately, grabbed the first blunt object he found in the darkness, and stormed out of his room in, he hoped, a menacing way.

All he managed to achieve by doing so was to make Morgana drop her candle to the ground out of surprise.

"Morgana?" he exclaimed while she picked it up. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm looking for Gaius," she answered in a strangled voice. She looked confused and thoroughly distressed.

"He's away, tending to the wounded from the war," he answered. "Can I help you instead?" he offered.

She didn't reply immediately. Merlin followed her gaze to the broomstick he was holding like a weapon. He tried to discard it as casually as he could muster.

"There's a... draught Gaius used to make for me," Morgana finally whispered. "One that helped me sleep. Without dreams. Do you have any of it?"

A potion to prevent Morgana's visions, Merlin remembered. "No, but I can make some."

"All right. Please do, then."

"It might take a while," he warned.

"I'll wait," Morgana stated as she took a seat.

While Merlin started preparing the potion, he kept observing her. She seemed really nervous, and her gaze was fixed, as if she was concentrating on something.

"I thought your visions were gone, are you having them again?" he asked softly.

Morgana remained silent. Maybe she just didn't want to talk to him, Merlin assumed.

They hadn't had the chance to since the incidents at the battle against the Saxons, since she left unexpectedly. After he and Arthur returned to Camelot, he had been surprised to find her apparently sick. At first he had thought she was just faking, but Gaius had confirmed her exhaustion was genuine.

Merlin wished he had managed to speak with her before, discussed her strange behaviour, but when he had tried to earlier that day, Arthur had unfortunately stopped him. He really wanted to understand her many changes of mind of the last few days: first plotting with Colgrin, then wanting to make amends, then attacking both sides on the battlefield, and finally leaving abruptly as if she hadn't been in control of her own actions...

Where did her loyalties truly lie?

"Those visions are a part of your gifts," he said cautiously, "maybe the best thing to do is to embrace them instead of trying to fight them."

She closed her eyes and began to breathe heavily.

"What did you see in your vision?" Merlin queried.

Morgana suddenly covered her ears with her hands. "Stop it," she spat.

Merlin looked back down to his preparation. "Sorry," he apologised, vexed by her reaction. But he soon realised she hadn't meant those words for him.

"Stop it, stop it, stop it, stop it..." she repeated like a madwoman, rocking herself back and forth.

Merlin immediately gave up what he was doing to run to her side with concern. "What? What's going on?"

She didn't respond. He grabbed her wrists to stop her movements and, in a flicker of the candlelight, found out she was in tears.

"Morgana?" he asked softly with uncertainty, moved by her distress.

"Is the potion ready?" she muttered weakly.

"Tell me what's going on first," Merlin insisted, still holding her arms.

Morgana averted her gaze.

"I can help you but for that you need to trust me," he continued, trying to meet her eyes, but she kept looking away from him. "I menaced to denounce you to the King because I was angry, but I didn't do it. You _know _you can trust me, and you _know _I can understand you." Still no answer. "We don't have to be divided, we _can_ find common ground. Even if we don't agree on everything, we can help each other out. We can... rely on one another in this world where people like us are hunted like animals." He paused. "Let me help you," he finished in a whisper.

Hesitantly, stumbling on every word, Morgana spoke at last after several seconds of silence. "In my dreams... There's a voice. It speaks to me. Gives me advice. Asks me to do things..."

"What sort of things?" Merlin queried.

She shrugged. "Spells. Potions. Magic... You wondered how I knew about the gatherings. _It_ told me how to go there. How to summon them." She paused. "Sometimes I hear it even during the day... I was hearing it the other day, on the battlefield, when I..." Her voice trailed off.

Merlin was finally beginning to understand her behaviour. Her obsession with magic. The way she knew things she wasn't supposed to. Her sudden changes of attitude. "Are you hearing it now?" he asked gently.

A few tears rolled down Morgana's cheeks. She nodded silently.

"What is it saying?"

"I'm not sure I should -"

"Morgana, what is it saying?"

She looked away again and swallowed uneasily. "It's telling me that some day, you will betray me and that I should kill you today. It's telling me how to do it, what spells to use. How to contact the new Saxon King. How to make Camelot fall, for good this time," she answered on a calm tone contrasting greatly with her words.

Merlin released her hands slowly, shocked by these revelations. So from the beginning, _that_ was what it had been? A voice, seeping into her dreams and thoughts to suggest her to betray Camelot?

"I have been fine as long as I was doing what it said," Morgana continued. "It pushed me to plot with Colgrin. It convinced me it was the only way to free magic, and I believed it. And then, I started ignoring it. After you menaced to denounce me, when I realised... what this voice made me do. The death of those innocents, the war..." She paused once more, shaking her head sadly. "I went against its will by coming to that last gathering, offering my help, taking part to the battle against the Saxons. It came back, stronger... I couldn't stop it... And now, it won't leave me in peace..." she finished as she broke into tears again.

Merlin listened to her explanations in silence, muted by his concern. She was talking about this voice as if it were an actual person...

"It's an enchantment. Someone is manipulating you, putting those thoughts in your head," he stated as he picked up her hands again, forcing her to look at him in the eyes. "Don't worry, we'll find out who it is and we'll stop him," he promised reassuringly.

"No, you don't understand..." she contested between sobs, taking her hands away from his. "This voice... I know it..." she confessed.

Merlin frowned. "Whose voice is it, then?"

"Mine," Morgana answered in a sad whisper.

Merlin stared at her, completely dumbfounded. And apparently, Morgana noticed.

"I'm not crazy," she immediately stated vehemently, "I'm not talking to myself. It's my voice but it's... not me." She shook her head. "No, I mean... It's me but... a different me. From the future. I have no idea how I know it, but I do. I know it is the woman that I will be some day that is speaking back to me." She paused. "And the things she knows, the things she says... The things _I_ say..."

Merlin remained silent as her voice trailed off. He was transfixed. She seemed unable to make the distinction between her and that voice any more...

"I know it sounds crazy, but it's true, it's her... I mean me... I..." Morgana stopped talking abruptly, her face dropping and her gaze suddenly distant. "What am I saying?" she muttered in a trembling voice, before looking back to Merlin. "Am I becoming crazy?"

Was she? Merlin wondered silently. "No, of course not..."

"I don't want to hear it any more," she stated. "This voice, this woman... If it _is_ me, I don't want to become _her_, she's..." Her hands flew to her mouth to stifle another sob.

Seeing her in this state and still do nothing was beyond what Merlin could endure. In an entirely instinctive way, touched by her anguish and despair, completely ignoring his rank, the fact that he was a servant and she was a Lady, he took her in his arms to comfort her.

"It's all right, you're not alone any more, we can help each other now. I'll help you. I'll help you..." he repeated soothingly.

But in truth, he had rarely been so unsure he could actually be of any help. And he had rarely been so scared to fail...


	35. Epilogue, p3: The Rules of Love

**Epilogue, part 3/3: The Rules of Love**

Arthur knocked on a house's door. While he waited, he gave a quick look over his shoulder to check his horse was still firmly attached to a tree.

After a few seconds, a woman with a baby in her arms opened.

"Good morning sir, can I help you?" she queried.

"Yes, I'm looking for Guinevere, I was told she lived here," Arthur answered.

"Indeed, she does," the woman confirmed. "She's -" she began as she looked to her left inside the house, and remained briefly silent until she looked back to Arthur. " - not here at the moment," she finally finished.

Convinced there was someone else inside, Arthur tried to sneak a peek, but the woman partly closed the door before he could.

"Can I take a message?" she offered from the reduced opening.

Arthur shook his head. "No, I'd rather tell her myself," he stated. Then, talking louder, to no one in particular but towards the inside of the house. "Guinevere, I will not leave until you agree to speak to me."

There was no answer. The woman looked inside the house again, and Arthur could hear some rustling, but no answer.

"Gwen!" he called.

"Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to leave, now," the woman advised.

Arthur kept talking through the door. "I'll wait. I don't care how long it takes, but I'll wait."

"Good day, sir," the woman concluded as she closed the door.

He stood there, immobile, while two muffled female voices rose inside. He only managed to hear the first demanding "who was this", and heard nothing of the second, but he knew it was Gwen, refusing to see him.

It didn't matter. He would wait.

He turned around and watched villagers walking right past him with complete indifference, going about their business. No one had recognised him when he had asked for directions earlier. This coastal village was probably too far from Camelot and the castle for its inhabitants to have any idea who he was – including Gwen's cousin apparently.

Deciding he couldn't remain waiting all day right in front of the door, Arthur moved away across the street and towards the pier, from which he knew he could be seen from the house. Then, he sat at the very end of it, facing the sea and away from the house – he didn't want to stare at that door if it remained irremediably shut.

And he waited. He watched the sea. The waves splashing against the shore's rocks. Gulls diving into the water to catch their food. In the heat of the midday sun, he started feeling hungry. But he remained.

In the middle of the afternoon, boats began to return one after the other from a day of labour at sea. When the sailors unloaded their catch, a few looked at Arthur quizzically, but none commented. He looked briefly above his shoulder back at the house, but the door was still closed. All he saw was a curtain being pulled back in its position.

Arthur shivered when the wind started to blow harder. His attention was now focused on the dark clouds on the horizon, growing near rapidly. It didn't look good.

As he had feared, an hour later, it started raining. It was not a light rain like they usually had inland. The drops were heavy, and within minutes he was soaking wet. But he remained.

He started losing the notion of time with the arrival of rain. The sun had disappeared behind the clouds, but the light was clearly diminishing. It would probably be sunset soon. That meant he had probably spent an hour, maybe two in the lashing rain already. And still no sign of mercy.

Arthur was drenched. Freezing cold. Starving. Bordering desperate. He felt miserable. But he remained. And as he was beginning to consider his options for the night, his tenacity was finally rewarded.

He heard the sound of a latch in the distance behind him. His heart started to beat faster, but he didn't dare look back. Instead, he kept staring at the skyline until, from the corner of his eyes, he saw feet and the hem of a dress covered by a thick coat.

"You shouldn't have come," Gwen whispered next to him, her voice almost lost to the wind.

"We have to talk," Arthur stated as he looked up to her.

Gwen wasn't looking back at him but ahead of her. Despite the hood protecting her from the rain, Arthur could see part of her face, and it appeared conflicted. After a long silence, she sighed.

"My cousin says that no matter what you did, what you're doing today is... way too romantic to let you catch your death out there in the cold."

Arthur couldn't help a broad smug smile. "And what do _you_ think?"

"I think you're just being incredibly stupid," Gwen answered coldly, still not looking at him, "and my cousin would too if she had any idea who you were."

Arthur's smile vanished.

"But if she knew who you were, I suppose she wouldn't let you catch your death out there either," Gwen continued. "She's inviting you in," she finished and turned on her heels, not waiting for him.

Without hesitation, Arthur stood up and followed her immediately. Once inside, Gwen headed to the kitchen without sparing a glance for him, and began slicing some vegetables there, probably for dinner.

Her cousin greeted him a little more warmly.

"You're soaking wet, you should change," the woman declared. "Here are some clothes from my husband," she continued as she handed him a pile of clothes she had obviously prepared before he arrived. "He's away at sea for a couple of days."

"Thank you," Arthur said and left to change in the next room.

When he returned a few minutes later, he wasn't as grateful. Those clothes smelled, itched, and weren't his size. One quick look at his reflection in the window glass confirmed he really didn't look his best in this. But it would have to do. At least he was dry now…

"You're wounded," the woman pointed out as she saw the bandage on his arm, revealed by the shorter sleeves.

Gwen briefly looked over her shoulders at this statement.

"No, it's nothing, really," Arthur dismissed.

"My baby is crying, I'll go look after him," the woman stated suddenly.

Arthur nodded and watched her leave, but he wasn't fooled. The house was silent, there was no baby crying.

He was now alone with Gwen, but she kept working on her task. He decided to sit at the table. "Gwen," he called, but she didn't react. "Can we talk?"

She remained silent.

"Will you at least listen to what I have to say?"

He watched her shrug, and sighed.

"When you left the ceremony the other day, you missed a few... events."

"Was it interrupted before the end?" Gwen intervened coldly.

"No."

"So you _did_ get married?" she asked sharply.

Arthur was dying to tell her everything at once. But during the entire trip, he had imagined how this reunion would unfold. And he may be willing to understand Gwen's defiance, not even in his worst case scenario was he confronted to so much distance. Piqued by this attitude, he decided to take his time.

"Yes," he answered simply.

Gwen resumed cutting the vegetables.

Arthur continued his story. "But at the very end of the ceremony, we were attacked by four sorcerers. They tried to kill me and the King."

The movement of Gwen's knife slowed down noticeably as she started to listen more intently.

"We were both fine," Arthur clarified. "But we found out those sorcerers were mercenaries hired by King Colgrin."

The knife stopped moving entirely, but Gwen remained standing still, her back to him.

"As a consequence, there's been a war with the Saxons."

This time, Gwen turned to face him with concern.

"We won," Arthur continued, "it's over now. Colgrin is dead and the Saxon troops returned to their Kingdom. Considering the terms of the peace treaty were violated, the wedding has been declared null and void. Angharad has probably already left the castle by now."

He fell silent, and waited while Gwen's gaze became distant.

"So... You're not married?" she asked with incredulity as she focused on him again.

"I'm not married," Arthur repeated, waving his naked ring finger victoriously.

A series of conflicted emotions followed one another in Gwen's eyes, a mix of both hope and doubts. Eventually, she turned her back on him and picked up her knife again.

"I... suppose there are already plenty of other Princesses from other Kingdoms waiting in line..." she said slowly.

The unmistakable jealousy in her voice after all this coldness made Arthur smile. "Probably, yes."

After his answer, the knife's blade slammed on the wood of the table a little more furiously than before.

Arthur stood up and walked close to her in silence. When he was standing right behind her, he laid his hand tenderly upon hers. She flinched at the contact of his skin and the knife fell on the table.

"Guinevere..." he whispered in her ear.

She glanced above her shoulder to look back at him at last, but she remained silent again. She seemed to be waiting for something.

And then, Arthur suddenly realised there were things Gwen would never be able to say first. Because of the rank difference. It would always be up to him to take that risk, to take the initiative.

"I won't marry any of them," he finally said. "I made a mistake by agreeing to marry Angharad, but I won't make that mistake again." He paused, his heart beating wildly just thinking about what he was going to say next. "Because I love you, Guinevere. With all my heart. And as long as I have a say, I won't marry any other than y-"

Before he had any chance to react, Arthur felt successively Gwen's hands on each side of his face and then her lips upon his in a passionate kiss. The initial surprise vanished quickly as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her closer.

In that instant, after a month of stress and emotional frustration, after speaking his heart so honestly and being proven better than with words that his feelings were returned, absolutely anything could happen, he probably wouldn't notice.

And indeed, he didn't notice when Gwen's cousin returned and giggled briefly at their sight before leaving them alone again.

After a long while, when they finally stopped kissing, neither of them seemed willing to let the other go. Gwen rested her head against his chest, and they remained in each other's arms in silence.

Arther laid a gentle kiss on her forehead. How could he have ever let her slip away from him?

"Will you come back to Camelot with me?" he whispered softly.

He felt Gwen smile against him. "Of course."

"Your cousin... She really has no idea who I am?"

"Not a clue..." Gwen confirmed.

Just like everyone around there, Arthur remembered. While it had been frustrating to be entirely ignored a couple of times when asking for directions, he had to admit it was refreshing. There, he could be himself, he could be just Arthur, with no fear of what the people would think of the Crown Prince of Camelot.

He smiled suddenly as a thought crossed his mind. "My horse lost a shoe during the trip, is there a farrier around here?" he asked, already knowing the answer.

"No," Gwen answered, "this is a harbour, we have no farrier. I can direct you to the man who usually helps out with those matters, but it will probably take him a couple of days to get a new horseshoe."

Just as he had thought, Arthur concluded as his smile broadened. "So, that means we'll be stuck here for several days?"

"I suppose..." Gwen concurred. She frowned when she looked up at him. "Why are you smiling? You lost no horseshoe, did you?"

"Does it really matter?" he said softly, and watched in her eyes the realisation of what he had in mind.

A few days in peace, away from the castle and the court, almost only the two of them, with no need to be careful...

Gwen reached up to kiss him again. "I love you too," she murmured, almost shyly.

"Really? For a moment there, I wasn't sure," he teased before kissing her once more.

Gwen's cousin chose that timely moment to return.

"Ah! Looks like you made up at last!" she stated joyfully. "Does that mean you'll finally introduce this young man to me, Gwen?"

"Oh, of course, this is..." Gwen began, but her voice trailed off hesitantly.

"I'm Arthur," he said simply.

"Oh, just like the Prince, then?"

Arthur resisted the urge to burst out laughing. "Yes, just like the Prince..." he confirmed and exchanged a knowing glance with Gwen.

**THE END.**

* * *

Author's notes:

This story was entirely written before series 3 started, except the 4 battle chapters. The ideas for this story came from a few things that I thought SHOULD happen on the show:

- Arthur being forced into an arranged marriage

- Merlin interacting with sorcerers that are NOT psychopaths, but regular members of society

- Morgana finding out about Merlin's magic

- Seeing some of the future Knights of the Round Table (Peredur is actually another name under which Percival is known)

Those of you who have seen series 3 know whether none, several or all of the above happened on the show :-D

I think this is the first time I write a story entirely planned from the start (I remember planning all the chapters up to at least 20 right after finishing writing 6), so I hope it made it more coherent, as a whole, even if a couple of things shifted during the writing itself.

I give as much importance to the reviews than to story alerts and viewing stats in general. I believe someone who reads a story until the end HAS to have enjoyed it on some level. So **big thanks to all of you who kept reading till the end**, even if you never took the time to write a review (but, you know, it's never too late, *cough* *cough*)

However, I was a little surprised (dare I say disappointed?) to see that once the main intrigue was revealed, the story started getting less reviews (while the viewing stats remained just as good as before). So from now on I'll try to keep that valuable lesson in mind: keep some mystery until the end if you want to keep getting reviews...

As always, I would really enjoy some **feedback about my writing** (or about the story itself, if you feel like it). Especially about the battle chapters. There's a reason I wrote them last: they scared me. All the fight scenes in this story were sort of a first for me. So I'd really like your opinions on how it turned out. Because if I don't get any second opinion, I'd be forced to believe they were soooo good they left you all speechless (please don't let me believe that).

And if you're too shy to write your opinion in a public review, private messages are just as good! Any criticism is appreciated as long as it's constructive!

Talking about constructive criticism... My eternal gratitude goes to **catch-katch**: thanks to you, from now on I'll always 'make' a decision, and never ever 'take' one again ;-D

Final note:

I've already started writing another Merlin story (it won't be a sequel this time). So, if you like my writing, keep an eye open for it some time in January...

I also have an idea for a sort of "challenge" story that should force me to work on one of my self-admitted writing weaknesses. But if I never get myself to write it, I'll give it away as a free plot bunny :-D


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